Unfettered Hearts
by Thalia Stormwind
Summary: Set directly after 3x22 "The Departed." Elena died with vampire blood in her system, the night she finally made her choice between the Salvatore brothers. Stefan and Damon, unbeknownst to her, had made a deal that whoever wasn't chosen would leave the other alone to be with her, but that was before she became a vampire. Warning! Stelena as well as Delena. Yes, Lemons.
1. Chapter 1

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(E)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

She sucked in a ragged breath.

Cold. It was so cold, and her head- oh how it _ached! _Her skin felt like it had been abraded with sandpaper and the stench of lake water was strong. Sterile walls, metal slabs. She'd seen enough cop dramas to know she was in a morgue, not in a hospital bed.

Eyes of green bled concern and remorse. Familiar eyes, _safe. _Stefan. Much as they comforted, she fought against her momentary confusion. They were not the eyes she had expected to see. "Elena!" Stefan breathed. "You're… it's… I'm so sorry, but Dr. Fell explained that your injuries when Jeremy brought you in earlier were much worse than she let on at the time. She gave you blood. When you went over the bridge, it was still in your system. You're in transition."

She remembered. The truck, Matt, Rebeckah, the bridge, the water. She'd found it fitting, at the end, that she'd die at the bottom of the lake under Wickery Bridge after all, only about a year too late to go with her parents.

Matt hadn't deserved any of the supernatural sideshow that her life had become. _He _wasn't the reason the Originals came to town, or even that the Salvatores had decided to come back to stay, so when Stefan appeared outside the window, she had insisted that Matt be the one who was saved. She'd had her second chance, and had made such a misery for everyone else with it. They'd all lost so much… so many because she hadn't died in that car with her parents. Vickie, Logan Fell, Bonnie's Grams, Lexie, Caroline, Anna, Mayor Lockwood, Mason Lockwood, Sarah, Tyler, Aimee, Trevor, Rose, Luka, Jonas, Isobel, Andi, Jules, Jenna, John, Mr. Forbes, Abby Bennet, Rick, and many others who she never knew about, never learned their names. So many deaths all because Stefan had saved her from her parents' fate. Her last emotions were of guilt and finally, peace. No one would ever have to die to save her life again. Her long fight with death was over, and death had come to claim her at last. There was no need for fear, for sorrow, for pain. The last air left her lungs and she breathed in searing agony, but then, darkness. Rest.

Only to open her eyes once more in shock, confusion, with a hunger unlike any she'd ever felt. Her throat was rubbed raw with lake water and something more. Each breath brought the scent of bleach, burning in her nostrils, with the faint, faraway smell of something delicious, something necessary. Instinct clamored in the back of her mind with the sure knowledge that she would need to feed on blood if she wanted to survive beyond the day. Stefan (or was it Damon?) had been right: a lot of it was pure instinct. She supposed she was lucky that she was better prepared for all of it, that it wouldn't come as such a shock when she woke to life again. To be perfectly honest with herself, she knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. From the moment she'd taken Stefan by the hand and led him up the stairs toward his bedroom, she knew deep down that it would always come to this. To think otherwise was simply a delusion.

"Elena?" Stefan's voice pled with her to speak, to acknowledge her existence.

"Stefan," she replied, her voice a weak rasp in her parched throat. She squeaked out a tortured groan and began to rise. He helped her sit up with gentle solicitous patience. She swung her legs over the side of the cold, steel slab they'd laid her out on. It was dark where they were, but there was enough artificial light filtering in through the windows set into the top of the wall at ground level to see by. "Matt?" she rasped out, not trusting her voice any farther.

"He's fine. He's in the recovery ward upstairs. They got to him in time."

"Jer?"

"I've called him. He's on his way."

"Da-?"

At that moment, the revolving doors of the morgue flew open with a bang, a preternatural wind blew through the cold, clinical space and crystal blue eyes hovered right before her, pale hands holding her face as if to reassure himself that she was real. "Elena!" Damon gasped, her name leaving his lips like a prayer.

She didn't know exactly why, but some tight place in her chest loosened with his arrival. Where before, Stefan's presence made her feel safe and loved, like she'd felt when her parents were still alive, but upon waking, she'd felt a distinctive lack-as if she were disconnected from reality. Damon brought that sense of being alive, protected, and loved back.

Having assured himself that she was as alive as she was ever going to be again, Damon released his clasp on her jaw and took a step backward out of respect for his brother's feelings. If he and Elena had been alone together for their reunion, it would have been a different story. He didn't know when his feelings for his little brother had begun to change from vehement hatred to brotherly love. All he knew was that he didn't want to cause his brother any more pain.

Elena took a moment to really look at the two men who had come to mean so much to her. Stefan and Damon stood equidistant from her and each other. Stefan wore his heart on his sleeve, heavy with guilt and remorse. His eyes glistened with moisture and his mouth hung open slightly with his grief. He seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders as he held back the sobs within. Damon, on the other hand, was merely wary. He wore his poker face, keeping his emotions bottled up and away from scrutiny, but she could tell he was waiting for her to say or do something that would cause him no end of suffering. Where Stefan had already given up on her, now that she wouldn't have the human life she'd clung so desperately to, Damon still held onto the hope that this wouldn't be the end. She could well understand Stefan's feelings on the matter: he always respected her decisions and if she decided she wasn't going to complete the transition, he would mourn for her, but ultimately let her do what she thought she needed to. He took the choice from Damon once, and the hatred that had engendered in his brother had lasted more than a century. He would not make that mistake again, not with her. He could not bear the thought that she would hate him for taking her choice away. He would rather lose her forever to death than to lose her heart. That she wouldn't make the transition was a foregone conclusion to him. He hated being a vampire-a slave to the monster inside-and could not fathom how she would ever feel any differently. To him, that life was fraught with misery, and it was only by trying his hardest to be human, to be normal, that he ever found any sort of happiness.

She wondered idly if he could ever truly love her as a vampire, now that she could no longer serve as a tie to a normal, human life. Instantly, she felt guilty for even entertaining such a notion and the guilt that welled up was black and drowning as lake water. The force of her emotions swamped her, and she felt more miserable than she had ever felt in her life, even right after her parents had died. It _hurt _to look at him so much, she instantly switched her gaze to Damon to take her mind away from the source of that pain.

Damon's look of hope still managed to win through his blank facade. It didn't matter, in that moment, that she had made her choice before she'd died, that she'd chosen Stefan. He could survive without her by his side just so long as he knew she existed somewhere in the world. He valued her life more than he valued his own, or anyone else's for that matter. Countless times, he had made that perfectly clear though words and actions both. He would always do everything and anything to save her, even if that meant enduring her hatred of him for the rest of eternity. If she decided not to transition, she could count on him to try to change her mind through pleading, cajoling, insults, downright threats, and every weapon in his considerable arsenal until he'd worn her down or changed her mind. Since she could be incredibly stubborn about these things, if he failed to persuade her, he'd try to _make_ her. He'd pull something out of Stefan's playbook and tempt her with a bleeding human, or more likely, force bottled blood down her throat.

Still, in that moment, even though she knew he would never let her get away with deciding to die, she felt none of her usual resentment toward his inability to let her make her own choices. Stefan seemed for all the world like her dying was a forgone conclusion, that the decision had already been made, while in truth, she hadn't thought about it long enough to make up her own mind. Damon seemed as if he was waiting for her to decide. Then, if she decided differently than he wanted, he'd try to change her mind. Still, he was holding on to hope that he wouldn't have to, that she'd choose what he wanted. Stefan's method was ineffectual. It was a kind of inaction, a passivity, born from the idea that he knew exactly what she'd do, when she didn't even know it herself. Damon was willing to let her come up with her own decision, and then fight her on it if need be. Damon would always fight. Stefan would always concede.

That was the fundamental difference in their relationships with her. Damon would always challenge her, Stefan would always support her.

Her eyes kept darting between the two of them as her mind whirled and whirled. It became increasingly harder to think as the blood lust warred with her senses and her body began making its sharp decline back toward death. Soon, she would be nothing but a ball of need and predatory instinct. She would lose herself to the need to feed on blood. It might take decades before she resurfaced again from the monster she might become if she ever let it go that far.

She realized she wanted-needed-more time to figure things out without the weight of the transition turning her thoughts to mulch. As seconds ticked by, she held onto her sanity, forcing her brain to grind away at the problem: the knowledge that if she died, she'd be leaving Jeremy without a single family member alive, leaving him only with ghosts. She could not do that to Jeremy.

"Could one of you please bring me a blood bag?" she managed to force out through her ragged throat. Drier than the Sahara, it made every word a chore. She couldn't tell if it was because of the thirst or because she'd inhaled so much water before she died.

Stefan startled at the question. His crossed arms unfolded as unshed tears glistened in his eyes. "I, uh, are you sure, Elena?" His depression began to visibly lift as the hope he hadn't allowed himself to entertain broke like dawn over his tortured expression.

"Yes," she said simply, and Damon was gone with a cold wind. He returned in an instant with a bag of O-positive clutched gently in his hand. Elena reached for it without making the conscious decision to, her muscles acting faster than her brain could process the command. Stefan's eyes veined out as Damon unclipped the plastic stopper on the IV tube and the scent of blood hit the air. Elena's did the same a moment later.

"Go find your own dinner," Damon chided his brother, "this one's for Elena." He held the blood bag out for her to take, straw first, and she snatched it away thoughtlessly to cradle it to her chest. Damon merely smiled knowingly, and rolled his eyes. "Newborns. No manners." He seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much, though he'd yet to drop his guard completely. Elena couldn't tell if he was wearing his mask of humor and sarcasm to preserve his pride until the other shoe dropped or if it was a symptom of having a potentially volatile baby vamp around, but she was too damn hungry to spend much brainpower analyzing it. She stared at the straw like tube for a few brief, tension-filed moments as it registered fully that if she did this thing, nothing would ever be the same. Still, nothing would ever be the same anyway. She spared a thought to John Gilbert's needless sacrifice. He had died to keep her human. In the end, all for nothing. She'd ended up a vampire anyway.

Stefan growled a little under his breath in self-disgust and promptly left the room at vampire speed as she latched her lips around the tube, sucking in the first sip with a gasp and a moan. Damon placed a comforting hand on the small of her back as she got lost in drinking and led her back to the mortuary table to sit and finish her meal.

Before she knew it, the bag crinkled, completely empty but for a few lingering drops caught in the folds. Mournfully, she sucked and nothing came out. Huffing in frustration, she blew the bag back up with a breath of air she didn't need, and resumed trying to drain the rest. Damon tutted half-heartedly as he took the empty thing from her. She whimpered at the loss, still ravenous.

"Easy, now," he soothed, stroking her hair back with a tender touch. "Take it nice and slow. We'll get you more, don't worry. I know it's hard. The hunger never really goes away. It's worse when you're new."

Stefan chose that moment to return, having regained some of his composure. He spared a glare for his brother at how close he was sitting to Elena, but kept his territorial comments to himself. "We'll need to get you out of here before sunrise," he cautioned, taking up the empty spot on the table on Elena's other side. "You should come with us to the boarding house. I sent Jeremy home and let him know that you'd completed the transition. You won't be able to go back home until you can handle yourself around him. I' told him not to invite you inside the house until Damon or I are with you."

Elena bristled at that. "I can't believe you think I would hurt my own brother." Her emotions were still rocky, still swinging from one extreme to the next, but her throat felt better and her head clearer.

"It's an easy mistake to make," Stefan sighed. "Trust me on that. I know from experience how hard it can be. Do you really want to take that chance?"

Elena sighed, defeated. "No. How do you plan to explain my disappearance? I take it the paramedics brought me here?"

"Dr Fell said she'd take care of it. They haven't revoked her medical license yet and she told the paramedics she'd continue trying to start your heart. I compelled the medical staff who helped work on you, and the nurse who wheeled you in here. No one knows what happened to you but Jeremy, Meredith, Damon, and myself. Matt's still unconscious, and the fewer people who know right now, the better."

"Thanks, Stefan. I don't know what I'd do without you." She looked back and forth between the two brothers meaningfully, seeing them with new eyes. She filed her observations away for later inspection, trying to tackle the problem of how she was going to get to a safe place before she could fully explore her new senses. "_Both_ of you. So how are we getting me out of here without trying to eat the rest of the hospital?"

"Simple," Damon said, and snapped her neck


	2. Chapter 2

___~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(S)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_"So how are we getting me out of here without trying to eat the rest of the hospital?" _

_"Simple," Damon said, and snapped her neck._

"Was that really necessary?" Stefan growled as he caught Elena in his arms before she could crumple to the floor.

"We're wasting time. Daylight is coming. Tick-tock, Stefan. I'll get the car. You carry her out. With any luck, we'll be out of here before she wakes back up. If anybody asks, she's just sleeping." Damon sped to the doors, hesitating with a hand propping one open on the threshold. "Try to make sure no one asks." With that, he was gone, the doors swinging back and forth in his wake once more.

Stefan looked down at Elena's face where she sagged in his arms. She looked so peaceful in death, as if in sleep. Even though he knew she'd awaken to be just as hungry as before, he wished she were only sleeping. There was so much she would have to deal with when she regained consciousness, so many hurdles, so many crosses to bear. He wished he could save her from every trial that was to come, to keep her safe from herself, but he knew that she would have struggles he could not help her with. He was barely coping with those struggles, himself. He could try and teach her control, teach her how to push away the bloodlust when there was no other option but to grit her teeth and bear it, but Damon would have to help her with the moderation part and teach her how to stop before she killed someone. He was under no illusions that the method he'd been living with for the last hundred years was a recipe for another ripper in the making. He could admit that much to himself.

Tenderly, he lifted her up to cradle her in his arms. Her head lolled against his chest, feet dangling from her knees which rested in the crook of his elbow. He would do anything for this girl. Well, almost anything, he amended. Nearly losing her forever was more than he could bear and he understood a little better the lengths that Damon had been willing to go to ensure that never happened. He thought he had loved Katherine, but as it turned out, it wasn't real. It had been real for his brother. Damon knew the pain of loss keenly and had stopped at nothing to make sure that he never had to feel it again. Eternity was such a long time to never see the person you loved again. He was beginning to understand how time could heal the wounds that seemed fatal in a relationship. For a long time, he thought he and his brother would be at odds until one of them killed the other. Finding the bond they'd once shared still there, only muffled under old grudges and still able to be nurtured gave him more hope than anything that Elena and he would never truly be over, no matter how she felt for Damon.

No matter what he and Damon had agreed on before Elena's transition, he would be unconscionably stupid holding Damon to his end of their deal. He shouldn't send Damon away when they needed him so much. No matter that he wanted Elena to himself, he couldn't be everything that she needed and he would not be so selfish as to deny her the people who filled in the gaps. If one of those people was Damon, well, that was just something he'd have to deal with.

Honestly, they needed Damon around to keep them from going too far, he and Elena both. They were a twisted little family, but in the end, they relied on each other.

He carried her out of the morgue with an ear cocked for human heartbeats. When someone strayed a little too near, he'd dart into an empty room or closet before they could catch sight of him and waited for them to pass. There weren't that many people awake at this hour, just a few nurses, the ER staff, and some orderlies doing the rounds.

In any case, she had made her choice, although he was beginning to wonder if he should have tried to make her choose at all. She wasn't Katherine, although she feared more than anything that they were more alike than she wanted to admit. She would never be as selfish, as manipulative, or as cunning. She had enough love and compassion for more people than she gave herself credit for. If anyone could love unselfishly, it was Elena. If he could choose one thing about her for vampirism to amplify, it would be her huge heart. She didn't hold grudges and was quick to see the good in people, even if they'd proven time and again that they weren't to be trusted. It was irritating when that applied to Damon, but when it applied to himself, he was eternally grateful. After all that he'd put her through, she had still been willing to let him back into her good graces, to let the hurt remain in the past, and work toward a better future. Even when he was at his worst, she'd still refused to give up on him. It was highly unlikely that she'd lose that part of herself, no matter how bitter over the loss of her dreams of children and grandchildren she may eventually become. He couldn't bear the thought of being the one to make her give up on anything else.

In no time at all, he was outside the hospital, loading her limp body into the backseat of Damon's car. Damon said nothing as Stefan hopped into the passenger seat, but eyed the lightening sky warily, his knuckles white on the wheel. Neither bothered with seat belts as they sped away from the hospital to the boarding house.

Damon didn't argue when Stefan carried Elena up to his own bedroom, but went right for the liquor on the sideboard. Stefan placed her gently on his bed, pulled the covers over her and went to secure the curtains so that no light would get through. That done, he sat on the edge of the mattress and waited for Elena to return to consciousness. He heard the creak of the leather armchair downstairs as Damon settled in with his glass of Scotch. He was left with his own thoughts in silence.

Stefan admitted to himself that he had never really doubted what Elena would ultimately choose. She was loyal, brave, and true. She would never turn her back on their love so easily, not after all they'd been through, and certainly not after having only recently gotten him back. She would always choose him, but when it came time, he chose Damon over Elena. He went with Klaus, took his devil's bargain, convinced he would never be with Elena again. It killed him to have to choose between his love for Elena and his brother's life, but if he had to do it all over again, he'd do the same. Every. Single. Time. He loved them both, each in separate ways, and in the end he had to decide which he wanted to keep and which he'd leave behind. He realized now that he had asked her to make the same choice between himself and his brother. If she wanted to be with one of them in a romantic sense, she had to lose the friendship of the other. That had been his ultimatum before he'd sent her off with Damon on that trip to get Jeremy. The end result was what he had been looking for. She'd finally made a decision between the two of them, once and for all.

In the face of the danger surrounding and permeating their lives, he'd gotten caught up in old jealousies and petty squabbling, all the while failing to protect the people she valued most, and finally, her. She died because he couldn't get past the thought of losing her to his brother. He had been so convinced that it was a real possibility that he'd found the one thing that would always ensure that she choose him instead of Damon, eschewing the high-handed bullheadedness of the elder brother for the supportive role of an understanding boyfriend. While Damon would always make the hard decisions and do the dirty work that needed to be done to keep her safe, in the end when Damon wasn't around to protect her from herself, he should have stepped up and done what he normally didn't have to do. Instead, he'd played it safe and that had ultimately determined her fate.

Damon might eventually forgive him for that, give or take a few decades of Elena still being around and never aging, but Stefan would never forgive himself. By giving her what she asked for, he had prevented her from having what she wanted most: a normal, human life. He sometimes forgot that she was only eighteen and had no idea what she wanted out of life or how to go about getting it. She was still trying to figure out the world and her place in it. She hadn't had the benefit of time and experience to find all of that out. Now, she had a whole new set of complications to add on top of never really learning how to be an adult, despite losing every parental figure she'd ever had. Eventually, she'd learn, but there would always be a part of her that was an eighteen-year-old orphan, no matter how many decades or centuries passed, just as there was always that part of himself that was a seventeen-year-old lovestruck, indestructible youth with too much money and not enough sense: the boy who could do no wrong while his older brother bore the full weight of their father's expectations and always came up short. Daddy issues aside, Katherine had played them against one another, singling out Damon's weaknesses and plucking at them constantly like harp strings.

Stefan sighed and stood from the bed. Elena was showing no sign of waking any time soon. He went to the shelf and pulled out his current journal and sat at his writing desk to put his thoughts down onto the paper.

Several pages later, he heard a groan from the bed and looked up to see Elena sitting up and rubbing her neck.

She glanced around and her eyes settled on him. "Welcome back," he said, smiling warmly.

"What happened? How did I get here?" she groaned, untangling herself from the blankets to stand up and stretch.

"How can I put this in a way that won't send you tearing off to have a fight with Damon…?" he wondered aloud.

"He broke my neck, didn't he." It wasn't a question. She shook her head and put her hands on her hips with a sigh of resignation.

"Well, yes," he replied, nonplussed at her lack of an angry, emotional outburst. She began looking around, seeing his room with new eyes. "Why aren't you mad at him?" Stefan finally broke down and asked.

"Better me than a hospital full of people," she shrugged. She became serious, looking off into the distance as her thoughts took a turn for the sobering. "I don't ever want to kill someone, Stefan. Not if it can be helped. Damon did the right thing. I recovered. If I'd gotten loose and started biting necks, the rest of the people there wouldn't have. There's only so many animal attacks a town can take."

Stefan nodded, surprised she was able to think so rationally about someone killing her, even if it was only temporary.

"For once…" she began, then became utterly still, cutting off her thought half-formed. She sniffed, then drew in a deeper breath, her head swinging around as if searching for something. Her brown eyes went black as the bloodlust brought out the animal in her. Stefan sniffed as well, catching the tang of blood he had been ignoring before. Before he could stop her, she was out of the room with a whoosh of air.

When he arrived in the parlor, following her scent as well as the scent of the blood, he found her tearing into a bloodbag while Damon picked himself up off the floor. Stefan tried his best to control his bloodlust, but the sight of Elena's red-smeared lips and fingers and the little groans she made each time she swallowed kicked his instincts hard in the pants.

"She surprised me," Damon said, brushing himself off. Stefan barely heard him over the rushing of blood in his ears. "I won't let her surprise me again." He looked up and caught sight of Stefan's predatory stance and veiny eyes. "Go on and find a forest creature to eat. I got this."

Stefan took a step forward. The motion caused Elena to look up. Sensing another predator intent on her sustenance, she glared with something like hatred in her gaze. She growled low, the sound emerging as a wet gurgle with her fangs buried in the bag. Stefan checked the impulse to growl right back, barely reining in the monster. He licked his lips and hovered, indecisive.

"Stefan! Get the hell out of here! I can't manage you both." Damon demanded then, putting himself between them.

Stefan closed his eyes tight to block out the sight, did his best not to breathe in any more of the scent of blood, whirled, and was out of the house before he could do something he'd ultimately regret.

He was miles away into the forest before he allowed himself to breathe again. He stopped to catch his breath, berating himself for his weakness. If he wasn't able to keep the monster in check when Elena fed, there was no question that Damon had to stay. With his hands on his knees, he panted, allowing the tears he'd held back since Dr. Fell told him what she'd done to fall. Everything was so messed up. He never wanted any of this.

Once he'd cried himself out and punched a few trees, he calmed himself, taking deep breaths and allowing the forest a reprieve from the outpouring of his grief and rage. Slowly, the sounds of forest life returned, silenced at his outburst. In the stillness, he listened, letting the chirp of the birds and the rustle of leaves to calm him further. He caught the scent of rabbit and began to stalk his prey, letting the familiar chase occupy the whole of his existence.

Three rabbits, four squirrels, and a startled buck later, Stefan was finally able to think rationally once more. The events leading up to Elena's transformation came back into focus. Klaus's death weighed foremost on his mind. He remembered finally that even if he and Damon hadn't been sired by Klaus's bloodline, he knew someone who definitely had. He pulled out his cellphone and scrolled through his list of contacts until Caroline's number lit up on the screen. If he was hurting now, he couldn't imagine the pain she must be in. He pressed the call button.

She picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" Caroline sniffled, having obviously been crying. "Stefan?"

"Caroline," Stefan replied, his voice aching with compassion for her. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Tyler," she cried out, unable to get anything else past the sobs that broke free. He could hear her shaking over the phone.

"I know," he said, commiserating. "Something else happened. I think we should talk in person. Where are you?"

"H-home," she hiccoughed. "I didn't know where else to g-go…" Her abject misery distracted him from his own grief, for the moment.

"Stay there. I'm on my way. Call Bonnie, if you haven't already. She should hear this, too."

"I tried. She's not answering."

"All right. Keep trying." Stefan sped off through the woods, avoiding the roads for as long as he could. "Hang in there, Caroline. I'll see you soon.


	3. Chapter 3

___~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(D)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Stefan disappeared up the stairs with Elena's body as soon as they arrived at the boarding house. Damon went to pour himself a drink, the return of the status quo almost comforting. Stefan got the girl and Damon turned to drink. All was right in the world. Well, not all, but it was good to see that some things, you could count on. He forced out a short bark of a laugh he didn't feel, knocked back the shot, and poured a double as he swallowed. He contemplated just swigging directly from the bottle, but low as he felt right then, he couldn't justify abandoning all sense of class. At least, not this early in the morning.

He settled into his favorite chair, content to throw himself a pity party. Saint Stefan would most likely be staying by Elena's bedside, so essentially he had the rest of the house to himself. It had been a twenty-four hours since his last decent into drunken broodiness: far too long, in his estimation, given all that had happened.

Rick died. Came back a vampire. Klaus got all desiccated-y. Yay team. Then, Rick took his immortal, Original-killing stake and jammed it into Klaus's heart, thus possibly ending Damon's bloodline. Goodbye brother, goodbye Katherine, goodbye Barbie. With about an hour left on the clock before it was curtains forever, a lovely little heart-to-heart over the phone with Elena, whereupon she told him of her choice and made some weak attempt at placating him with that, "Maybe if I'd met you first," line. He didn't bother contradicting her. He'd taken that memory away, more fool him. So. That was a lovely little cherry on top of his crap sundae. The last time he'd thought he was going to die had been a lot nicer on his ego, all things considered. Rick came back, having lost Beckah. Cue epic beat-down at the hands of his former best friend. Things were progressing nicely, true-to-form, as if scripted, until Rick had the audacity to just drop dead. Meaning Elena died, and yet, he and his brother were alive. Oh, so not even happening.

Rush back to Mystic Falls, the town he was beginning to loathe with the fire of a thousand suns, to the Wickery Bridge (which he seriously contemplated tearing apart with his bare hands) and find the cleanup of the scene was already underway. Find out through compelling one of the cleanup crew that an ambulance had taken the two occupants of the truck to Mystic Falls Memorial. High-tail it over there while dialing Stefan's phone. Get the scoop on Meredith's helpful medical method. Learn how to breathe again.

_She's not dead, she's not dead, she's not dead:_ a litany in his brain, more hopeful than certain. If she was dead, he was going to kill his brother and that just wouldn't sit right in the grand Karmic sense of things. Not before they staked that Original bitch with the ultimate weapon (which was currently sitting happily in his leather jacket, in the breast pocket next to his heart.) With any luck, she was the sire of their bloodline and that would just tie everything up in a neat little bow, now wouldn't it? He wouldn't have to live in a world where Elena no longer existed, and he'd get his revenge on his brother, the Original bitch, and Katherine, that diabolical, manipulative cow, all at once. All the players in the comical farce that they had made of Elena's life. Barbie would bite the big one, too, but he was fairly certain that with Hybrid boy dead and gone, she wouldn't mind.

He'd stopped just long enough to get Meredith Fell to tell him where she'd stashed Elena's body, waved off her explanation about what she'd done, and was off to the morgue to see if it was time to go off the rails for good. On his way, he'd heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Elena took her first breath of the transition.

He allowed his pace to slow, to regain a bit of his composure before making an entrance, his hearing focused entirely on how Elena would react to her new lease on life. When he heard Elena begin to ask Stefan about Donovan and her brother, he put on a burst of speed, barely registering that his name had been the next on her list.

But he heard. And damn, if it wasn't a sweeter sound than her first breath. Suddenly, he was there.

She was cold and clammy to the touch, shivering faintly, stank like muddy water with the hint of _eu' de decaying leaves_, and was doing a passable impression of a drowned rat, but was still the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. Maybe he wouldn't have to kill anybody today, after all. Seeing her awake and coming to terms with her new existence allowed him to put everything back in the box. He girded his metaphoric loins for the 'will she, won't she?' discussions that were bound to follow. He dearly hoped he wouldn't have to force her to complete the transition.

In the end, she surprised him pleasantly by deciding to go ahead and do it. He hadn't even gotten a chance to try out his best arguments for the cause. Before she could change her mind, he went and compelled an IV bag from a nurse and was back to give it to her as fast as his vampire feet could pitter-patter.

After that, it was easy to go about the motions of making the transition as easy as possible for her. He made Stefan leave the room so she could feed in peace. He even found it within himself to summon up a bit of humor when her newborn greed for blood had gotten the better of her, while inwardly he was impressed with her ingenuity on how to go about getting the last few drops of blood out of the bag. He wondered why he never thought to blow the damn things back up, himself. Although, there was never any shortage of blood bags around the house, and he was long past his days of desperation when it came to getting more. While Stefan did his part to minimize the collateral damage back at case de Gilbert, Damon came up with a plan of his own on how to keep Elena from tearing into every injured person between the morgue and the boarding house.

Once again, it fell to him to do the distasteful things that the self-righteous judgey bunch wouldn't do, but benefitted from. To save Elena the heartache of losing control and killing someone before she'd even seen her first sunrise as a vampire, he snapped her neck. True to form, Stefan reacted with outrage, while inside Damon knew he had to be relieved.

With the immediate crises of the logistics of Elena's transition and vulnerability to the sun out of the way, Damon allowed himself the luxury of feeling everything else that wasn't conducive to ironing the situation out. He was so angry with Stefan, he couldn't even speak to him. He was frustrated that Bonnie wasn't picking up her phone, since Elena needed a daylight ring, PRONTO. He was hurt as hell by Elena's choice of Stefan over himself, although he wasn't all that surprised. He was pissed off that he couldn't leave, even if Stefan insisted that he hold up his end of their deal, because now Elena needed him and he'd _ALWAYS_ give Elena what she needed. It might not be what she wanted, but… well. He cocked an eyebrow and downed his glass. Stefan. It was always gonna be Stefan. The golden boy, the favored son, the one who could do no wrong in their fathers eye's, the one Katherine loved, not Damon. Everything always came so easily to Stefan. It was all so damn unfair. Baby bro got to be the good guy, while big brother was constantly cleaning up all the messes when Stefan went bad.

Damon sighed. The alcohol wasn't cutting the cravings for blood nearly as much as it should. His fight with Rick must have taken more out of him than he'd thought. He got up to place his glass back on the sideboard and made his way to the basement to grab a bloodbag from the freezer. He could hear Stefan's pen frantically scribbling away in his diary, so he assumed Elena hadn't gotten up yet. He'd have time to break his fast while sleeping beauty snoozed away before his first day on the newbie patrol. It was probably the best chance he was going to get. He couldn't keep snapping her neck every time she got out of hand, although he probably _could. _It would certainly keep things quieter, but it would only serve to prolong his sentence. If watching Elena and Stefan's _Epic Love_ unfold the first time hadn't been sickening enough, now that he had real feelings for her, it would stretch his patience to the breaking point. _Teach her control and moderation, get her stable, and then get the hell out of this godforsaken town. That's the plan._

He downed the first bag with the freezer door still propped open. It was disgusting cold, but he wouldn't want to take the time to heat it up just to have to put it aside to deal with the next bit of chaos life tossed his way. He picked up a second bag and let the lid close with a 'thump'. Normally, he'd only have one, but after using up most of his internal supply healing his wounds and speeding around, he needed to get his strength up to handle Elena once she awoke. She'd wake up hungry, possibly angry with him, with a hair-trigger temper and instincts screaming to kill, kill, kill. She might have been fun to party with, back when he was still keeping it all switched off, but right now, he was trying to keep Stefan from going all Ripper. An out-of-control Elena would only push Stefan right back over the edge.

For some reason, he wasn't cool with that.

Back in the parlor, he poured a bit of blood off into a tumbler and heated it up in the microwave on the sidebar. The first sip was _almost_ as good as the fresh stuff, but still lacked that satisfying burst of life on his tongue. He repeated the process, rationing out the blood like scotch, a doubleshot at a time. He was about to go for his third glass when Elena finally rejoined the world.

"Welcome back," he heard his brother say. Damon rolled his eyes.

"What happened? How did I get here?" _Annnd here it comes._

"How can I put this in a way that won't send you tearing off to have a fight with Damon…?" _Smooth, brother. Now she'll never know who to blame._

"He broke my neck, didn't he." _Well. She's taking it better than I'd hoped. _He sipped idly at his drink, listening to the rest of the conversation play out.

"Why aren't you mad at him?" _Yes, Elena. Why aren't you? I'm just dying to know._

"Better me than a hospital full of people." _Ah. There it is. So quintessentially Elena. Hang on, did she actually use 'Damon did the right thing' in a sentence? I can't believe what I'm hearing. Did somebody put LSD in the blood supply?_ He sniffed surreptitiously at the blood in his glass and shook his head in wonder.

She came out of nowhere with enough momentum in her tiny frame to send him flat on his ass. He managed not to spill the last bit of blood in his glass on the rug, but realized he needn't have bothered. Elena was fangs-deep in the plastic container and wasn't being very tidy about it. Blood ran in rivulets down her face and arms, off her elbows, to patter in droplets onto the floor. The sounds coming out of her as she fed were painful for him to hear. They sounded oddly similar to her moans when they'd made out outside the motel room during their little trip to pick up the ghost whisperer. Sexual. Hungry. Lost to sensation.

Damon picked himself up just as Stefan arrived. It didn't take long for Damon to realize that Stefan was losing his shit and that he needed to get him out of the house ASAP. "Stefan!" Damon yelled "Get the hell out of here! I can't manage you both." Thankfully, before things could get too heated, Stefan left. Damon made sure he was off the property and not showing any signs of slowing before he approached Elena.

"Easy, Elena," he murmured, putting his hands up to show her he meant her no harm as she growled at him through the skin of the bag. "I don't want your dinner. I've already fed. Just, slow down. You'll give yourself a bellyache. That's right. Slow. Savor it. Now. Stop."

She growled at him again and resumed her furious feeding. The bag was soon empty. She tossed it to the floor in disgust. Truly lost to the bloodlust, she saw the blood on her hands and instantly slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean before licking up what blood she could reach from her forearms. Damon held back a groan at the sight of her tongue running out to lick every inch of skin she could reach, then her fingers again when she used them to wipe up blood from where her tongue wouldn't reach, finally winding around and around her lips to get every last drop, all the while making those provocative little sounds.

He approached her slowly, cautiously, so as not to startle her and provoke a fight-or-flight response. Arms' length away, she stilled, hunting up more blood, and fell on his abandoned glass like she'd been walking through the desert for days and it held the last remaining drops of water on earth.

She made short work of it and scented the air once more. As she poised to bolt in the direction of the basement freezer, Damon pounced. They grappled on the floor, his superior strength barely containing her as she writhed and kicked and squirmed to break free. "Elena! Elena stop!" he begged, flipping her on her back and pressing the full length of his body on hers. She calmed underneath him, no longer trying to buck him off her as his voice registered, though her pupils were still fully blown and the veins around her eyes showed no signs of receding. He took a few deep breaths, hoping to get her to breathe along with him. He thought it had worked when she took a few deep breaths of her own, but too late, became aware that she wasn't just breathing, she was _scenting his breath_.

Her tongue snaked out and licked a stray droplet from his lower lip. The semi-stiffy he'd been sporting from the moment she'd first bit into the bloodbag roared to life in a full-blown hard-on as her tongue slipped between his stunned lips to taste the remnants of blood inside. Sanity fled him. He kissed her back, pouring all of his need of her, all of his pain and frustration into the punishing plunge of his tongue into the cavern of her mouth. He wasn't careful, wasn't polite, and her fangs had yet to recede. His tongue got nicked on one of them and she sucked on it, arching up into him as the blood continued to flow. Stars exploded behind his eyes as sweet, innocent Elena's body sang to him a siren call of lust. Her jean-clad pelvis ground up into his, stealing his wits completely until he could't tell whether her moans were sounds of feeding or sounds of sex, and he didn't care. For a few mad moments, the world disappeared around them and Damon gave himself over to the exquisite pleasure of feeling Elena's welcoming arms around him, her hips cradling him, her breasts heaving under his chest, and her lips embracing his to the exclusion of all else.


	4. Chapter 4

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(D)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_For a few mad moments, the world disappeared around them and Damon gave himself over to the exquisite pleasure of feeling Elena's welcoming arms around him, her hips cradling him, her breasts heaving under his chest, and her lips embracing his to the exclusion of all else._

But he knew it couldn't last.

She whimpered and clawed at his leather-clad back when he retrieved his tongue. He couldn't get his breathing under control. Each indrawn breath brought the scent of her arousal into his nostrils. He was so tied up in lust that he couldn't think straight, didn't _want_ to think straight. The niggling thought at the back of his mind cried out to be heard. She'd chosen Stefan, hadn't she? What the hell was he doing?

He reared back just far enough to get a good look at her. She was the heart and soul of passion wrapped in velvety olive skin in a heart-shaped face, framed by glossy locks the color of bittersweet chocolate. The graceful sweep of her brows and elegant cheekbones were marred only by the dark veins that branched and bulged from blood-black eyes; eyes which bore into him with an intensity her heartfelt stares had lacked in the past, but the really unsettling part was that it was as if she was looking through him, not into him or even at him. It was as if she didn't even see him at all. Her muscles alternately tensed and relaxed, her body wiggling, never still. He couldn't take advantage of her, not like this. Her bloodlust was tangled up with her emotions, blurring the lines between the need of blood and the want of sex. "Elena," he breathed, hoping for some kind of response from her, to let him know she was still in there somewhere. Confusion flickered across her face for an instant, but was gone before he could make the human connection. In a blink, the predator returned, her smile turning sly and seductive (and eerily similar to Katherine's) before she unleashed her feminine wiles on him once more, and writhed up and against him provocatively, forcing a response in him. Respond he did, so help him God. Even if he didn't want to, Little Damon most definitely did, and he was accustomed to letting Little Damon do all his thinking for him in these situations.

He buried a hand in her hair and attacked her mouth, even as the other hand began inching up under her shirt to skim her flat, silken stomach and ribcage. At the lace of her bra, he hesitated, fighting the urge to rip all of her clothes off with the barest shred of self-control he still possessed. She didn't have a change of clothing here at the house and securing new garments for her would prove… awkward. Right, like he could ask Stefan to go get her some while he soaped and sluiced the lake water off her skin in his shower after… after.

Damn it. He'd almost forgotten. She was Stefan's girl, and he was merely a glorified stand-in to slake her out-of-control hormones. He released her mouth to rest his forehead against hers, to pant and try to get back a little bit of his presence of mind.

She wasn't rational. She couldn't stop now if she tried. Excuses for her uncharacteristic behavior tumbled through his thoughts. Seconds crawled by while he wrestled with his fledgeling conscience. The anguish of wanting her _so much _slashed through him and he winced, even as his lips hovered above hers, reaching, trembling on each intake of breath. Everything he ever wanted lay sprawled beneath him, seducing him, seemingly wanting him, too. But if he gave into it, whatever _this_ was, he would never know for sure if it had been real. He didn't want a bloodlust-fueled tumble on the parlor floor, he wanted into her big, beautiful heart. He wanted her to _choose _him because she loved him, not because he was ready, willing, and available to give her everything her body craved. He wanted…

She pushed him up and off her. His back hit the wall and she came flying after. She spared no consideration for his _own_ clothing, but ripped his shirt wide open, scattering buttons across the parquet floor. Her lips crashed hard against his, her hands took possession of the skin that she'd just bared, nails raking down his pectorals, over his sensitive nipples. He growled into her mouth. Thought fled once more as instinct took him over. He forced her back again, to slam into another wall. Vampire speed made them blur to the naked eye, the howl of wind at their passing punctuated by the slam of a body against a wall, here, the crashing of a picture frame hitting the floor, there, and shattering glass in a few other places. The staircase saw its fair share of arching backs, grasping hands, and claws biting into wood.

Finally, they were there before his gigantic bed. Black silk sheets beckoned and welcomed. The featherbed cushioned her fall when he threw her down. She whipped off her shirt and flung it aside while he stood, panting at the foot of the bed, staring at her with the crystalline blue gaze that never failed to electrify her insides. He was consuming her with his eyes, and the intent to consume her with his body, as well. He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped the tattered remnants of his own shirt to the floor. He threw himself on her, an appreciative purr in his throat at the skin she bared, which fevered kisses worshipped on his journey back to reclaim her lips. He hesitated at the lace cupping her breasts, taking the moment to just appreciate the sight, then resumed his path to the sweet, kiss-plumped lips which awaited him at the top.

There was nothing better than the feel of being skin-to-skin with Elena, although he could do with a little more of it. Her jeans _had_ to go. He rolled off her, a little to the side, but kept her chest pinned beneath his as he continued worshipping her mouth with his kisses. He popped the button of her jeans free with a practiced, one-handed motion and pulled the zippered waistband wide without looking. His hand darted inside her jeans to grip the sturdy fabric at the base of the splayed zipper, and with a smooth tug, sent the offending garment southward over legs that went for miles. She bent her knees and raised her hips upward to assist, and soon the denim was sailing over the tips of her pointed toes and off the end of the bed. He repeated the process with his belt, not even bothering to pull it free of the loops before unbuttoning and unzipping his own denims, and kicking them off in the direction of Elena's.

The brief time that it took him to get their pants off was too long for him to not be fully pressed against her. He rectified that oversight swiftly and rolled overtop her to be cradled by her hips and thighs once again. Even though a few scraps of cloth remained to separate them, the feeling of her beneath him was infinitely better than with those pesky jeans in the way. He could feel the heat coming from her core, swathed in damp silk. It was… incredible. Breathtaking. He pressed his hips forward, rubbing the head of his restrained cock against her sodden, silk-clad quim, as if he could rend both garments out of the way through sheer willpower and the force of his thrusting. Her legs snapped up and around his hips, squeezing him as she joined his primal rhythm.

Her little moans became frantic with need and he swallowed each of them down, returning them on passion-mad grunts and moans of his own. He rejoiced in the feel of her soft skin and supple curves, but wanted _more, always more_ of her. He had to taste, had to know every inch of her. He stroked her hair repeatedly, mindlessly massaging her scalp, then settled his elbow beside her to receive the brunt of his weight. With better leverage, he slid the other hand down her bra-covered breast, pausing to savor the soft mound in his palm, gave it a squeeze because he couldn't _not. _His hand parted their torsos, gliding down, ever down, as he raised up to follow its path with his eyes. The waistband of her adorable panties parted ways with her hip bones, held back by the tendons and bones of his wrist as he sought out the treasure between her thighs. He petted the crisp, soft curls he found beneath, unwavering in his quest to find the entrance to nirvana. He slid a finger between her slick nether lips, and she threw her head back to cry out as he located and circled the erect bud of her clitoris. He watched her face with rapt attention as it contorted with pleasure. He wanted to see every thing he did to her, written across her animated features. Slowly, deliberately, he penetrated her with one long digit, glowing with satisfaction as her eyes flickered closed and she let out a trembling breath at his invasion. He crooked his finger upward, stroking the upper wall beneath the bundle of nerves that never failed to send a girl swooning. As he added another digit, he settled in to play her, his favorite instrument of all.

He used every technique he'd ever learned over a century-and-a-half as a lover of women to pull responses from her body in an effort to send her hurtling over the edge. Her inner walls suckled at his fingers as he played, making him wish he had another part of himself in there to experience the fluttering, welcoming warmth. Still, he was having _way_ too much fun with her to stop what he was doing just then, and with the way she was responding to his touch, he knew he wouldn't last long if he did. He wanted to make this the most amazing experience she'd ever had. He wanted to ruin her for every other man on the face of the earth. He wanted to keep her, by hook or crook, and wasn't above using his considerable skills in the bedroom to make it so.

Her head thrashed on the pillow, her moans increasing in pitch and frequency. He edged into vamp speed as her orgasm was fast approaching. When her lips reached for his, he obliged her with a kiss, plunging his tongue in time with his plunging fingers, mimicking their motion. The duality, the symmetry of it, was all too much for her. She released his mouth to draw a breath and let it out in an abrupt, keening cry. Her walls clenched, nearly breaking his fingers in half with the force of it. She threw her head back, and with another, longer keen, fell to pieces in his arms.

Her face came back up, her eyes caught his and held. Still veiny. Not exactly what he'd been hoping for, but he'd take it all the same. Her hand clambered down his back to cup his muscular, tight ass, found his boxer-briefs, and ripped them clean off. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her bold, uncharacteristic action, but couldn't hold back a grin when she merely growled and tore her own underwear from around her body and his hand. Her legs had fallen open to the sides, to give him room to work, but now tangled up with his with the inexorable strength of a steel trap. He put his fingers deliberately into his mouth and let her watch him lick them clean. She _smoldered_ up at him. He smirked and did the 'eye thing' she used to hate.

Whether it had been his intention or no, Elena was going to have what Elena wanted, and soon. Presently, if he were any judge of her stubborn, determined expression. With a firm grip across his shoulder and another still keeping his butt company, she hauled herself up to press her body flush to his and lined them both up until Little Damon was poised at the entrance of the place he most wished to be. Damon did the inner dance of triumph as he felt himself slide over her slick flesh to settle into the dip at the entrance to Elena's body. Her lips found his pulse point as she breathed in deep, as if drawing up courage. With the strength of a constricting anaconda, her muscles coiled all about him and she impaled herself upon him. He moaned, as did she. As she slid over him the last inch, she bit down. Hard.

Sweet agony blossomed as her fangs sank into his neck. Murderous thoughts of retribution scattered to the four winds as memories swamped him, brought to the forefront of his mind's eye by the power of the sensation of being fed on by the doppelgänger-turned-vampire. He went boneless atop her as he was transported back to a time when he was still human, when a superficially identical woman had her fangs in his throat and he was powerless to stop her. He was overcome by a pleasure that spread like a drug through his system. Lassitude followed, like drinking warm bourbon on a cold day, like hearth, home, and safety. Nothing in his considerable experience had ever prepared him for what her feeding did to him. It was supposed to be painful, wasn't it? He distinctly remembered pain whenever another vampire bit him, even during love play. He felt none of it, only the hot flash of desire radiating outward from both places where they were joined: at the hips and where her mouth latched onto his flesh. Her tongue laved and played over and around the punctures before they closed. Her teeth slid into his veins with searing, aching ecstasy again and again, while she furled and unfurled beneath him, until she merely left them in, denying the wounds the room to knit. She easily switched their positions and flipped him on his back while he moaned weakly and gave himself over to the demands she placed on his all-too-willing body.

As she fed, she thrust herself up and down him rhythmically, continuously. Her hips were never still, her body caressed his skin each time she arched. Her hands roamed freely over his chest, shoulders, head and arms, but his skin was becoming numb to what was happening on the outside.

It was to the _inside_ that his focus narrowed, now.

He felt the borrowed blood he'd consumed earlier leaving him, flowing into her, giving her life and sustenance. They were connected in a way that astounded him. Dimly, he remembered that Meredith had used the blood she had stolen from him in her medical treatments. She must have used it on Elena, who had died with it in her. His blood, his. He was her sire.

A parody of fatherly pride tickled through him. She was the best thing he had ever made. (Sorry, Barbie). She was magnificent, she was… draining him dry, but it felt as if she were feeding him, too. Somehow, his instincts of self-preservation kicked in, until it was his fangs slipping into her soft skin as a hot knife through butter, and the circuit was complete. His blood into her as her blood flowed into him. The feeling of safe harbor redoubled, intensified until it seemed that nothing in the world could bring either of them harm. He could go on like this forever. If he never took another sip of her blood, he swore he would be replete, until his next swallow, when the feeling renewed like waves crashing on the seashore.

It was more intimate than the sex: sharing life-force, sharing the peace it brought. It was every emotion he had ever yearned for, coalescing into the perfect dizzying rush of thoughts and emotions, through blood, through body and veins and out and back again. He held on for dear life and just… breathed. Something in her demeanor changed to mirror his own. He felt her breathe with him, felt her wonder. She took another, tentative sip at his veins. He followed the path it ran through her, sipped it back when it flowed beneath her skin to where his fangs were buried. He taught her with his blood the way of it, the control. How to stop before the heart quit beating, how to hold onto the humanity inside, how to switch it off if that were her choice. She showed him with her blood the power of her feelings for Stefan, for Caroline and Matt and Jeremy and Bonnie, but above all, she showed him her love for him, which her heart still held sacred, despite-and maybe a little because of-everything he had ever said and done to her.

Gone was the frantic struggle. It could have been seconds, hours, or days since he'd first tackled her to the ground.

Galloping rhythms of hearts slowed to a more even pace.

Each pulse and the space between took forever and no time at all, perfect and timeless.

Her draws on his neck gentled, slowed until she drew no more. He stopped suction as well. For a time, they merely lay there, entwined in every way imaginable.

Finally he felt her fangs slide back out of his neck and he removed his own in turn. His hands slid up her body from where he'd been gripping at her waist in an attempt to guide her up and down his length until they reached her face. Gently, he cupped either side of her jaw and pushed her back away from his neck so he could have a look at her. Her expression was dazed, bewildered, but the veins around her eyes had receded and her irises were reclaiming ground where her pupils retreated. Clarity returned. Eyes brown as the earth and deep as the ocean met with crystalline blue the shade of the summer sky. Heat crackled there, still, but for now the fires were banked low. Storm clouds cleared. The ocean stilled.

She smiled. A sleepy smile. A sated smile. Stunned, he let her face go and she nestled down against his chest with a contented hum.

He was still hard within her, couldn't remember if he'd come or not, but decided it didn't matter. He rolled them both on their sides while slipping himself out of her. Speechless, a little in awe of what had just happened, but filled with more bliss than he'd felt in a long time, perhaps ever, he fought for words. To feel-to finally know-beyond the shadow of a doubt that he loved someone who loved him in return filled the empty place in his heart he'd been trying to quench since he'd risen again a vampire to a world which always had him competing against his brother in all things. Even love. "Elena, that was…" he huffed a small, disbelieving laugh and shook his head, fighting back tears. He paused, reliving some choice memories of their encounter. "That was beyond incredible." He held her close, unable to keep from stroking her back as she lay against him, to feel her warm skin exactly where he'd dreamed it would be.

She was a goddess. She was his salvation.

"I love you." He waited a beat to hear her say it back, perplexed when she was silent. He looked down to see her lashes had formed soft, crescent-moon shapes atop her cheeks. Her beautiful mouth was formed into a relaxed little half-smile. "Elena?"

A tiny sigh escaped her. She was fast asleep.

"Well, damn. Looks like I wore you out." Damon tried to stifle the huge, shit-eating grin that plastered his face, but gave it up as impossible. He pulled the comforter from under them and then tucked it back down around them. He gave a wary glance to the square of sunlight that puddled halfway across the room and decided that she needed her rest. He had plenty of time to wake her before it ever reached them. He cuddled her closer, kissed her forehead, and settled in to watch her sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(E)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Elena was yanked from borrowed blissful dreams of 1800's Mystic Falls by the sensation of a thousand fiery needles tap-dancing on her skin at once. With a pained and startled cry, she yanked her hand from Damon's chest where it sizzled in a shaft of sunlight, which left his lovely, vulnerable chest untouched. Damon snoozed away, undisturbed by her outburst and sudden motion. She peered at him, narrow-eyed, before inspecting her burnt patch of skin. The flesh knit right before her eyes. Ugly, blackened blisters subsided and left nothing but smooth, unblemished white. She glared at the offending patch of sunlight which seemed all too happy to continue its glacial pace across the coverlet, daring her to remain in bed with Damon to await its deadly kiss.

She rose silently from her side of the mattress, retreating. She cast one more baleful look to the window that spilled golden death across the floor before backing naked through the open door into the Damon's luxurious en-suite bath. She turned her back to the sun when she was through the doorway and made for the shower immediately, her resentment of the daylight ejecting her from Damon's arms momentarily forgotten.

Ever since she first saw Damon's shower she'd been dreaming of getting inside of it. It was a thing of wicked beauty made entirely out of frosted glass, marble, and gleaming stainless steel; a hedonists' engineering playpen large enough to hold the entire Mystic Falls High School football team; and oddly reminiscent of a Roman Emperor's bath as imagined by a cubist magpie. It promised the kind of bone-deep clean that Elena had always fantasized about, but had never before dared to trust Damon not to come and ogle her. Or join her. It was, after all, his shower. It took a bit of experimentation and some blind luck, but she finally figured out how to turn the water on and adjust the temperature. She played with the different settings here and there as she familiarized herself with the controls. She swore that learning to drive a car had been far more straightforward than trying to trick the shower heads into doing what she wanted. Having gotten the settings Not Quite Perfect, but Close Enough, she busied herself sniffing the myriad of shampoos and body washes Damon had in neat little regiments all along the farthest wall from the door.

The selection available wasn't entirely comprised of scents she would expect Damon to use. Doubtless, Andi must have left quite a few of them there, or perhaps Damon had started a collection for the parade of ladies he… _never mind._ She wasn't exactly up for sainthood when it came right down to it. Glass houses, and all that.

She shut her eyes as if it would shut out the world or block out her memories. She pretended, for a moment, that she was merely asleep, and when next her eyes opened, she would find the last forty-eight hours to be nothing more than a dream. She peeked. _Nope. Still here. Still a vampire. Might as well get clean and face the new day with something akin to dignity._

She let out a heavy sigh. Well, she'd really gone and done it now, hadn't she? Sure, she could make excuses about how her bloodlust had taken her over, how the monster inside took control, how her out-of-control emotions had led her astray down the path to debauchery, but she knew it wasn't true. She was there, remembered everything perfectly. When the 'monster' had urged her to lick Damon's lips, no part of her screamed out in protest. _Not a single, tiny molecule._ All she could hear when the impulse presented itself inside her mind was a resounding 'Yes! Do it _now!'_ In fact, every single urge she'd had since the moment Stefan had left the boarding house had been nothing she hadn't secretly yearned to do for a _really_ long time. Longer even than she would have admitted to herself. But she was long past the lies and self-delusion that had clouded her thinking all her human life. _Let's get real and honest here for a minute, shall we?_

Even being 'dead' had not prevented her mind from continuing to experience itself endlessly, cut off from all her other senses. The blood which continued to flow sluggishly, repairing the damage to her spinal cord, had sparked that part of her back to life, first. In dreams, she relived the memories that had been denied her human self. As synapses fired back into functioning order, the blockades of compulsion faltered and fell, exposing the memories they hid like raw nerves, poignant, shiny, and new. Each memory that returned was examined, reexamined, and placed into context with the grand sum of her experiences up to that point. Shuffled, reshuffled, and relived again from every angle, forward and backward. Her thoughts kept returning to the missing pieces, poking at them like a canker sore she just couldn't help herself from tonguing. She'd met Damon first. At a time when she was lost in the forest of teen angst, a mysterious, handsome stranger had appeared with all of the secret truths she'd been refusing to admit in her heart. _Yes_ she wanted passion, she wanted a love that consumed. At the time, it was everything and nothing she needed to hear. Her guilt about being _done_ with Matt hadn't quite subsided. Her desire to see him happy was at odds with her own desires, and characteristically, she had been prepared to procrastinate making a break with him for as long as she could so that she could have her cake and eat it, too. In the end, she only would have made them both miserable.

Elena placed the event of their meeting in the grand scheme of things, in all the _schemes_ which later became known. Damon was in town to find the pendant he'd hidden in the Lockwoods' family heirlooms, the one which bound Emily Bennet's spell on the tomb. The comet he'd been waiting lifetimes for was returning. He must have been setting things into motion even then so that he could play the knight in shining armor and rescue his beloved Katherine, who, as it turned out, wasn't even in the tomb at all. What must have run through his mind, hearing her voice at last? Seeing Katherine before him when he thought her to be trapped within a spell and desiccated to beef jerky? How many times would he be given a glimpse of false hope before seeing it all dashed to pieces? Her heart ached for him with new understanding. No wonder he'd been in such a bloody, destructive mood when he found that Stefan was also back in town, and to all appearances, perfectly content to relive falling in love with Katherine-in-human-form all over again.

She wondered how things would have fallen out if she'd been allowed to keep her memory of her first meeting with Damon, but couldn't make the leaps of intuition necessary to reconcile what could have been with what had come to pass. _What's done is done._ She filed the memory into place and went on to examine the next.

_She had returned home from her kidnapping ordeal, after having experienced her first encounter with the Original, Elijah. He had torn her necklace from her throat to compel her to reveal all that she knew about the Moonstone and Katherine. She had thought for sure she was going to die then. The Salvatores had rushed to her rescue. She wanted-needed-a break from all of the supernatural drama that had taken over her life. She went through her nightly routine, the familiar task of getting ready for bed helping her to feel a little closer to normal. "Cute PJ's," Damon said, seated at the window. She looked up, startled, and barely suppressed an eye-roll._

_"I'm tired, Damon," she responded sulkily, not exactly wishing a rehash of the last time he'd visited her bedroom in the middle of the night._

_He stood and approached her casually. "I brought you this," he said, holding up her necklace._

_"I thought that was gone," she gasped, not quite believing it. He merely shook his head, a disappointed look crossing his features, as if to say he couldn't believe that she thought he would ever let her lose something that meant so much to her, if he could help it. "Thank you," she sighed in relief, reaching out for it. He pulled it back out of reach, smirking. His smirk soon fell to a thoughtful faraway gaze of sadness, and his soul was there, bare in his expressive eyes. Not quite a grimace, but close. "Please give it back," she said, a warning in her tone. (Give it back or I will hate you forever.)_

_"I just have to say something," he said, moving forward._

_She took a trembling breath and retreated a step, not trusting him not to do something in keeping with the bastard she knew he could be. "Why do you have to say it with my necklace?" (I don't want you to compel me to kiss you.)_

_He wrestled with the words to answer her. "Because… what I'm about to say is probably the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life."_

_She heard an uncomfortable confession coming, tried to spare them both the airing of it. "Damon, don't go there." (I don't want to have to hurt you again.)_

_"No, I just have to say it once," he said, closing the gap further as she edged back, but she was held captive in his gaze. "You just need to hear it." He waited a beat, marshaling the will to say what he'd been trying not to all along. "I love you, Elena." She had no time to let that sink in, because he was speaking again. "And it's because I love you that… I can't be selfish with you… and why you can't know this." His eyes closed for a moment, his voice broke. When they opened once again, he spoke with heartfelt conviction."I don't deserve you, but my brother does." He leaned in to kiss her lingeringly on the forehead. She stood stock-still while he did, afraid he would really kiss her, because she wouldn't have the strength to push him away in the face of all he'd just said, and a little disappointed that he hadn't. His lips were soft and warm on her skin, conveying the truth of his love through actions better than words. He tenderly stroked a lock of her hair back as he put a little of the distance back between them. "God, I wish you didn't have to forget this." She felt a tiny frown knit her brow, not quite comprehending what he'd just said. "But you do…" A single tear slipped down his cheek, beneath his mesmerizing gaze._

_She blinked, and he was gone. She couldn't figure out how her necklace had gotten back around her neck. _

But, deep down, she knew, or at the very least suspected that the inexplicable return of her necklace meant something momentous had occurred. She was pretty certain that only Damon would have had the balls to come into her room in the middle of the night, place the necklace around her throat, and leave her with a hole in her memory as to how it got to be there. Stefan would have placed it in her palm, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and renewed his pledge of undying love and willingness to wait until she was ready for them to be together once more. At the time, Elijah had been an enemy, so it never occurred to her to think he had something to do with it. That left only Damon, and not even the erasure of the memory could have taken away what she had already known in her heart. Even though she hadn't remembered him saying he loved her, he showed her in his own often misguided and sometimes infuriating ways that it was true. By the time she'd gotten the memory back, she had experienced his love without words too many times to count.

Where Stefan gave her room to be human and took what moments of intimacy with her she was willing to give without complaint, Damon invaded her life. He butted in where he shouldn't have. A stolen look, here, a touch there. While Stefan upheld his deal with Klaus, Ripping into half the east coast, Damon stayed and protected her, helped her become strong. He had become a regular occurrence around bedtime, until she gave up trying to push him out of her life and out of her bed, and felt safe enough to sleep with him beside her. He trespassed where he wasn't wanted, until he was. Wanted. Nights spent without him watching over her from his customary side of the bed were lonely. Parts of her wished, then, that Stefan was a little more like Damon, and would sneak into her room to do the same, because it was _Stefan_ she loved, and _Stefan _who she was supposed to wish was there. But the truth was that she wished for either of them to be there when she slept and when she awoke. No matter how she tried to force herself to feel otherwise, despite her moral outrage at herself, she loved them both. Romantically. Although she had tried her best to keep her feelings for Damon platonic and friendly, she wanted him in her life in exactly the way she wanted Stefan. Guilt, recrimination, self-hatred and disgust: she felt them all even as she experienced the relief of being honest with herself at last.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, but she was trapped inside her body, unable to so much as breathe, let alone talk. Her emotions wormed about inside her head while she lay recuperating from something that, had she been human, would have left her dead. Instead, she was imprisoned with all of her deepest, darkest feelings, amplified a thousandfold until they could no longer be denied, nor ignored. They filled her like water in a vessel too small to contain them. They stormed and rampaged, hunting for a release valve, searching for a way to escape into the open air, until they were more akin to water that was on fire. The black winds howled inside her. Outwardly, she showed not a hint of what torment she was experiencing, while inside she was breaking apart, the steady foundations of all she had built her life and personality around crumbling and churning in a miasma of confusion and pain.

_One love._ _That's all you get. Anything less than your whole heart is cheating the one you're meant to be with._ Her inner voice chided. _You are exactly like Katherine. You are selfish. You are despicable. _She railed at herself endlessly.

She allowed herself to wallow for a time. Contemplated ending it all when she regained the ability to walk out into the sun. Ran down the litany of people she'd be betraying with suicide, envisioned how the ones she left behind would feel, just as she'd done every time the notion to take her own life had arisen. It had been especially hard right after the death of her parents. She'd contemplated giving in countless times and always hauled herself back from the brink. Jeremy had taken the slow route to self-destruction, choosing instead to demolish his grades and poison himself with drugs. In the end, she'd always decide that suicide was cowardly, and that she had _never_ been a coward. She had to remain strong for Jeremy. She couldn't do that to Jenna. Bonnie and Caroline were her friends; she would never make them stand over her grave wondering why she abandoned them. Now, though some of the players had changed, the play remained the same. She loved everyone too much to throw away all the sacrifices they had made to keep her alive. No one was better off without her. She had to stop thinking that they were.

_When you wake up, you will have to decide all over again which of them you want to keep. You will have to hurt one of them, or have neither of them. You can't go on like this any longer. Stop being selfish and make up your mind. Right here, right now you need to figure out whether it matters that you met Damon first. Make sense of how you felt when you met him, before you knew anything about him or Stefan. Be honest, because you only get one shot at this, and if it's Damon you want, you have a lot of work to do convincing him you changed your mind._

_Well?_

By the time she woke, she still didn't know the answer. She had been aware of Stefan's presence in the room for quite some time, had determined that she would play the part of her former self, as if nothing had ever changed. There would be time enough to figure out what she wanted, but right at the moment, she needed them both by her side if she was ever going to be able to see the people she cared about without losing control. She wished she could get right into learning how to reconcile her new self with her old, but he was still raw with guilt for his part in what happened to her and still unsteady from confronting his own demons over and over again. She couldn't see how heaping one more pile of destruction onto his psyche would do anything to help their situation.

She tried her best. She really did. She presented herself as a rational, compassionate individual, with maybe a hint of vulnerability. She wasn't nearly as fragile as she'd once been, but she sensed he needed the illusion of protecting her to keep himself going, so she gave him that. She loved him, still wanted to give him what he needed, and what he needed right then was for her to be her old self long enough for him to reassure himself that what they had together hadn't died with her at the bottom of the lake. But then the smell of blood reached her nostrils, and she was suddenly _starving_.

That's when all her good intentions went to hell. With her blood up and her instincts taking the fore, it was all too easy to just give into the feelings she'd been trying to suppress for so long. With her emotions on overdrive, thinking became an obstacle to gratification, and was done away with. It felt so good to be mindless, to see what she wanted and just… take it. And God, wherever he touched her, she lit up like the fourth of July. Suddenly, safe and easy dulled in comparison to the hot flash of frenetic need she felt with Damon. It _consumed_ her. It was dangerous. And she wasn't afraid of it. Not any more.

She fell back against the glass of the shower wall. It was refreshingly cool against her suddenly burning skin. Her eyes slid closed once more as she relived every touch, every kiss, every moment in her memory anew. Her fangs ran out as she recalled the instant when he entered her, the feel of him hard and pulsating inside her, the sweet gush of his blood on her tongue giving life, assuaging the thirst. She tilted her head back under the spray, surrendering her senses to the water cascading over and around her. With her eyes closed, she could almost imagine that it was Damon's hands, stroking her body, his tongue and teeth plucking at all of her sensitive spots.

As selfish as the decision was, she could not call it a mistake. Being with Damon was just as intense and passionate as she always knew it would be. Even when vehemently denying that it was _ever_ going to happen, in the end, it wasn't wholly convincing. There was still that little something in the back of her mind that liked to speculate.

She sighed, feeling as though she'd gotten herself backed into a corner with no means of escape. On the one hand, there was Stefan. Her love for him had given her a reason to wish to be alive at a time when life itself was just misery. He had been a bulwark of strength when the whole world was seemingly out to get her. She loved him dearly. That much hadn't changed. He had helped her remain on her feet, but had hurt her, too. On the other hand, Damon. Damon had been an adversary and a trial, until Stefan had turned away to the dark side. Then it was as if the entire world flipped upside down. Suddenly it was Stefan who was the adversary and Damon who was becoming adept at keeping her strong. Somehow, a miracle had occurred, a tiny golden age when both brothers stood at her side, working together toward a common goal of eliminating the threat that the Originals posed.

And then she died, and came back a vampire. The tentative truce could have remained had she not forgotten herself for an instant, and taken the plunge with Damon.

What the hell was she supposed to do, now?

She opened her eyes and let out a gasp. Her mirror image stood before her, naked as she was, and smirking with that self-assured amusement Elena had come to hate so much. "Katherine!"

"Shh!" The older doppelgänger pressed a dripping hand to the younger's mouth, holding her in place with another on the small of her back, stepping in close so that their bodies touched all along their lengths. Katherine tilted her head in the direction of Damon's bedroom and gave Elena a meaningful look. "I think it's time you and I had a heart-to-heart, wouldn't you say?"

_(TBC)_

A/N All right, so it looks like Chapter Six is having issues displaying properly. Might be there's a backlog or maybe there's a goblin in the system. Here's hoping when I post Seven it'll push Six clear. Working on Seven right now, should be up by the end of night. Fingers crossed. Sorry for the delay and all that.

On a brighter note, I love you guys. I'm so glad to see you like my story. Any of you who write know how much reviews make this whole thing worthwhile. I'm as shameless about desiring feedback as the next author, so here I go begging and reminding you guys to send me your thoughts, your criticisms, and of course, your praise if you so choose. Faves and Follows are awesome, but Reviews are LOVE!


	6. Chapter 6

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(K~E~D)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Elena's body trembled in Katherine's hold. "You're still terrified of me, even though you're no longer human," Katherine noted with a twinkle in her eye. "So you're not an idiot after all. Good. Just so we're clear, I'm much older than you, which means I'm stronger and faster. I could snap you like a twig. Remember that and we'll get along fine. All right?"

Elena merely nodded. Katherine took a long look at Elena, gauging her sincerity. Satisfied, she gave a firm nod of her own before slowly releasing Elena's jaw. "Klaus isn't dead," she continued in a conspiratorial whisper.

"What do you mean, he's not dead? Damon and Rebeckah saw him get staked." Elena whispered in return, massaging her jaw where Katherine's fingers had pressed just a little too hard.

"They may have 'seen' it, but I assure you, if Klaus was dead, we would all be dead, too. But the biggest problem here is that if Klaus is alive, we're both still in a lot of trouble. Especially now you've come over to the Dark Side."

"So you're saying that Klaus fathered our blood line."

"Didn't he say as much?"

"Yes, but we didn't really believe him," Elena admitted, grudgingly.

"You should have. He was telling the truth," Katherine replied, matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, but, how do you _know? _Both that he's not really dead and that he fathered our bloodline?"

"The… oh, hell. Long story. Might as well get the pond scum out of your hair while we go over it. Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around. I'm going to help you wash your hair."

"Are you serious?" Elena hissed out, clearly uncomfortable to be naked in the shower with her de-facto arch nemesis.

"Sure I am," Katherine replied easily. She gave one look at Elena's incredulous expression and figured that a bit of explanation was in order. "Look. It's easier to keep from being overheard by Sleeping Beauty in there while the water masks our whispers. Might as well get you put back together while we do. It's obvious no one ever taught you the proper way to care for that mass of stringy straw you call hair. I wouldn't be caught dead with it."

Elena glared mulishly at the insult, but held her tongue. Katherine in a sharing mood was a rare thing, so Elena thought it best not to provoke her. Katherine grabbed Elena by the shoulders and forced her around.

For the next few moments, the only sound to be heard was the rushing of water as Katherine ran lather through Elena's wet tresses with nimble fingers. Elena held herself stiffly, then gradually began to relax into Katherine's tender ministrations to her scalp. It was a markedly surreal sort of moment; the two of them had never gotten along, had in fact been blights on each other's existences, but in that time and space, Katherine couldn't summon up any of her old vitriol for the younger doppel-vamp. In fact, she was feeling something like an odd kinship with the girl. Elena was finally coming to terms with the reality that _yes, in fact_ Katherine was washing her hair and it felt really, really good. She became enthralled with the way her nerve-endings sparked differently from when she was human, each tingle a new sensation to be savored.

Her discomfiture had nearly fled entirely when Katherine finally spoke again. "Vampires are made, rather than born, but of course you knew that. The Originals were made vampires through magic, and it is by magic that their lives are sustained. What Esther did unwittingly, while trying to make sure her family would never die, was to provide the means of passing the magic on to others. The blood which turns us ties us to the life force of the vampire who carries that magic within them, thus the bloodline that an Original made ending when that Original dies. Still, beyond our lives relying on the life of the Original which sired our bloodline, there is a whole other set of connections you can tap into if you know where and how to look. Rinse, please. No, more. You still have residue in your hair. Keep rinsing. See how the water runs completely clear? That's what you're looking for. All right, time to lather again. Where was I? Oh yes. The ties between vampires of the same bloodline go beyond merely relying on the Original to keep them alive. The blood within the sired vampire used to belong in some way to the vampire who sired them, and that ownership can be used to subvert the will of the vampire in whose body that blood resides. This is even stronger when complicated by an emotional or psychological tie, as you've seen with your young hybrid friend, being _sired_ to Klaus. Rinse again."

"If the magic is passed down a bloodline, then why don't vampires die when their sire does? Wouldn't that break the line?"

"It's not important to keep the line unbroken. As long as the Original survives to keep the magic alive, the rest is all sympathetic mumbo-jumbo. That's not the point, here," Katherine replied, oiling up Elena's hair with a thick conditioner.

"So what is the point?" Elena prompted shortly.

"I was getting to it. Sheesh, impatient much?"

Elena sighed, resigned to the fact that Katherine would tell what she wanted to in her own time. The elder doppelgänger was never without a sense of drama, and Elena was beginning to suspect that she really liked the sound of her own voice.

Katherine grabbed her by the shoulders again and _whisked_ her out from underneath the spray. "Let that sit for a minute. Give it a chance to really soak in." Elena stood where she'd been put and crossed her arms over her chest. Katherine took the opportunity to indulge in the water that wasn't currently in use. Elena shifted nervously at the provocative way that Katherine moved. She seemed to be making love to the water. Katherine grinned, clearly amused by Elena's discomfort. "Go on, have a good look. It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Just never from this angle," Elena admitted, trying not to lose ground in the subtle battle of wits Katherine seemed to constantly engage everyone in.

"True. Makes me wonder what _other_ kinds of fun we could come up with."

"Eew, Katherine!" Elena whined, pulling a face.

"Shhh! Not so loud. Damon, remember? Although, he might appreciate the sight…. shall we try and wake him, my dear?"

Elena tried and succeeded at giving her only a blank look.

"I wonder… if you and I were to…" Katherine trailed off, stepping in close and sliding a slippery hand up Elena's hip suggestively, "would it be considered lesbian sex? Or masturbation?"

Elena's blank look turned dark. "Not interested, either way."

Katherine's laugh tinkled over the tiles. It had the effect of nails down a chalkboard on Elena's frayed nerves. She hated how talking to Katherine always made her feel off-balance, and sullied somehow. "Relax, Elena. I don't swing that way, either. Just an idle thought." She stepped back, still chuckling. The motion made her breasts jiggle. Elena couldn't help but watch in fascination. Did hers do that in the same way?

As if she'd read her mind, Katherine said, "Physically, you and I are identical in every way. Carbon copies of Tatia, the Original Petrova doppelgänger. Why, I'll bet our g-spots are the same, too, so it's safe to say that, yes, they do. Time for you to rinse again," she sing-songed merrily.

Elena barely suppressed a growl but did as Katherine said. In a conversational tone, Katherine continued her tale as if she'd never broken it off. "Along with the general mental powers over mortals we Vampires all enjoy, we can also give dreams or visions to sleeping or unconscious individuals. Some of us can connect with other beings to act as our eyes or ears on top of a whole other range of supernatural abilities. Those of us in the same bloodline can also communicate through sharing blood. The closer the connection, the better the ability to share, and also the better the experience. There is no closer bond than that between a vampire and her sire."

Elena's own… experience… with Damon rushed into the forefront of her mind. Aside from the physical aspect of their coupling, she hadn't had time to really process the event. It was a relief to know that she hadn't hallucinated the other side, the blood-sharing side, that two people (vampires) could really become connected in such a way. The rush of thought and emotion was too fast to comprehend fully at the time, but when she reached for the things that Damon had shown her, they were there all the same. _Huh. Weird. I wonder if it would work with Stefan, too. Then again, probably shouldn't… at least until I can learn to control what goes through the blood._

Katherine was silent for a little while, tugging Elena's hair this way and that under the water, trying to get it to rinse out clean. "You can sense these bonds, if you know how to look. Rose's sire, Mary, taught me once, while I was on the run from Klaus. She exacted a high payment for it, but she taught me and promised not to betray me to him. She taught me a lot I didn't know about surviving. Good as I was, there was still a lot to learn. Over the centuries, I've befriended witches who were deep into the mysteries, and managed to perfect the art of sensing others through the blood. I've managed to use it to keep five steps ahead of Klaus. It seems he never picked up the trick. He's always been a bit too cocky, in my opinion, and I've used that to my advantage. I wouldn't underestimate him, though. He's still far too dangerous and unpredictable to drop your guard for an instant. So, when you ask how I know he's alive and the sire of our bloodline, that's how. Through sensing the blood ties up the line to the Original. It's actually easier now that Rose and Mary are dead. There are fewer stops along the way. I can sense you, now, too, just like I've always been able to sense Stefan and Damon, because I am their sire. There. All clean. You can thank me for it later, when you realize how silky it is."

Elena couldn't remember a time when Katherine had ever said such a mouthful without needing something in return. It was only through miserly doling out blood over the threshold of the tomb Katherine was imprisoned within that Elena had ever managed to learn as much as she had about the Petrova family history or the sun-and-moon curse. Katherine was far better at hiding information than giving it. She always kept something back, an ace-it-the-hole. So why was she giving her so much?

"Why tell me this? How could it possibly help you?"

"Yes, of course. I only ever do anything to benefit myself," Katherine scoffed, putting her hands on her hips as if offended.

"Pretty much, yeah," Elena shot back. Katherine had never shown herself to be anything other than an opportunist survivor. When people got in her way, they ended up dead. She used people like they were toilet paper: easy to come by and just as easily thrown away.

"Well, I guess I'm tired of running. Tired of being hunted down because I wouldn't do what Klaus wanted me to and die so he could be a Hybrid. I want to make a life for myself. Is that too much to ask?"

"No. Of course not," Elena said, surprised and feeling a little guilty. "But what does this have to do with me?"

"We're in the same boat now. You'll realize that soon enough. Klaus is going to be pissed that you're no longer his human doppelgänger blood bank, and that you died before you had any children. No more Hybrid army when his supply runs out, so there go his dreams of carrying the biggest stick."

"It's not my fault, though. Rebeckah killed me to get rid of Alaric."

"So you'll trust him to see sense and not take it out on you or the people you care about? When have you ever known Klaus to take reality or any one else's feelings into account? He'll be pissed and you'll bear the brunt of it. Or Stefan and Damon will for failing to protect you. Is that what you want?"

"No," Elena admitted. She could easily see how Stefan of Damon would end up taking the blame. As if Klaus ever needed even that much of a flimsy excuse.

"So it makes sense that we'd join forces. Doppelgänger solidarity and all that," Katherine waved a hand airily about. Both rolled their eyes.

Elena peered closely at Katherine, trying to figure out her game. "I still don't trust you."

"Look, I can teach you how to use the bloodline to your advantage. Do you want to learn or not?"

Elena thought about it. It would be a handy thing to know. She'd always be able to find Stefan, Damon, Caroline, Katherine, and most importantly, Klaus. She couldn't afford not to take Katherine up on her offer, even if she had some other nefarious plan brewing beneath the surface. "Yes," she said, finally.

"Good. I had a feeling you'd see sense. Find an excuse to slip out after nightfall. Meet me at Fell's Church. Keep drinking your daily dose of vervain, in case you're caught by an Original. It's going to burn like hell, but we don't want them learning about this and reporting it back to Klaus. Ok?"

"OK."

"And Elena? Don't tell anybody about it. They won't let you leave without another long meeting, where everyone will want to put in their two cents, and then they'll want to send somebody with you to 'keep you safe.' I'll know and I'll be long gone before you get anywhere near me."

"I understand."

"Good. Bye, Elena."

The water cut off and Katherine was gone, faster than Elena's improved eyesight could catch. "She wasn't joking about that being faster thing," Elena grumbled, and reached for a towel.

Once she was clean and dry, she realized that there was no way she was going to climb back into the clothes she drowned in. She could smell them from the other room. Wrapped in a towel, she exited the bathroom from the hallway-side door, avoiding patches of sun like land mines as she padded down the hall to Stefan's room. It was blissfully dark thanks to the blackout curtains.

In the bottom of the closet lay an overnight bag she'd put in there what seemed like aeons ago but was probably only a few months. She hauled it out easily and plopped it onto the bed. The clothes inside were rumpled and had seen better days, but they were clean and hers and that was all that mattered. She could smell the shampoo and body wash she used, the laundry detergent, and what remained of her human scent, clinging to the fabric despite it having been a while since they'd been worn.

She dressed quickly and mechanically as she mulled over everything Katherine had said. She wrapped her hair up into the towel that was still damp from drying her body and sat on the edge of Stefan's bed. The scent of lake water still lingered in the linens and the coverlet. She couldn't stand the smell. It reminded her of death. Before she could stop and think about what she was doing, she was stripping the bed down and bundling the sheets, blankets, and pillowcases together in an unruly ball. She sped off to the basement with the bundle held at arms' length and tossed them into the washing machine with a healthy dose of detergent. With a whirl of the dial and the press of a button, the machine hummed merrily to life, and Elena could breathe a bit easier once more.

She returned to Stefan's room and took stock of her handiwork. The bed looked naked. She'd have to fix that before he returned. Suddenly, it seemed of dire importance that his bed be put to rights before he could see it. Somehow, she thought if he saw it then he'd know what happened between Damon and herself before she got the chance to explain.

She tore through the room, hunting for fresh sheets to put on the bed. When she found what she was looking for, she dressed the bed in record time. Blankets were kept elsewhere, but she found them, too. Before she could even process how irrational her fear of Stefan coming home to a stripped mattress was, she'd made the bed up with perfectly tucked corners, fit for the cover of a decorating magazine. She stood, looking down at it for a long time. The silence stretched out over the house like a dark shadow, Elena's thoughts equally as blank.

It was a Herculean effort to shake herself out of her fugue, but she managed it by giving herself another task to complete. She wasn't looking forward to it, but it had to be done. She went to the end table and took up the little glass phial of vervain tincture. When she removed the glass rod stopper, the smell hit her like a physical blow. The familiarity of the task of putting three drops into a glass of water was all that helped her make it through. Her hand shook as she slid the stopper home and she put the phial hastily down in its normal spot and took a step back.

She stared at the seemingly innocent glass of water and dreaded the drinking of it. She remembered how Stefan had coughed and wheezed every time he drank a cup of it. It never failed to take him to his knees. The glass stared back at her. She didn't like being afraid of it. It made her feel weak. She hated feeling weak.

She grit her teeth and took a menacing step toward the poison. It didn't flinch, but of course it wouldn't. Couldn't. She snatched it up and before she could lose her nerve, knocked the glass back into her open mouth and swallowed it in one go. It burned all the way down, agonizing fire, ice, and acid. Before she could understand what was happening, she found herself on the floor, wracked with coughing spasms, the glass rolling away on the suddenly ugly ornamental rug only to be stopped by the leg of the table.

A gust of wind, and she was being hauled up into protective arms, still unable to breathe, see, or think. "Elena! What's wrong? Are you all right?"

She nodded as tears streamed from her eyes and pointed a shaky finger toward the vervain, still unable to talk. She allowed herself to be cradled into Damon's chest while she tried to learn how to breathe again. He mumbled soothing words and nonsense as he stroked her back.

When she'd finally gotten ahold of herself, she could only say, "Thank you," and then, "you're naked."

"Just notice that? Highly observant of you," he murmured, then put her a little away from himself. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones as he checked her over.

"I'm fine, Damon," she said, almost believing it. "Just taking my daily dose of bad medicine."

"Sucks, doesn't it?" he asked wryly, his look of alarm melting away under the return of his usual sarcastic humor.

"Does it ever get any easier?" she asked mournfully, looking back at the phial with unquestionable loathing.

"Hasn't for me, yet, but I hear tell that it does," he responded unhelpfully.

"How reassuring," she drawled and squeaked as she was crammed up against his chest once more, his arms like steel closing around her.

"You nearly gave me a heart-attack," he accused. "Not that I could have one, but still."

"You'll live," she grumbled good-naturedly. "In a manner of speaking."

"I'd kiss your smart mouth but I'm afraid I'll get blisters."

"Better not chance it, then," she teased, and gave him a tremulous smile as they stepped apart through unspoken accord.

"So… this morning," he started, then broke off, looking anywhere but at her. She could swear he'd be blushing if he had the ability.

"Oh, no. We're not having this conversation right now. You're underdressed and the scenery is all wrong."

"Funny. I'd say you're _over_dressed," he grinned, his cocky mood returning.

"Well, then, we'll have to agree to disagree. But I'm definitely changing locale before my head explodes from all the subtext and innuendos. Get dressed. Close your curtains. Bring your phone. I'll be downstairs trying to wash the taste of vervain out of my mouth with your top-shelf liquor. We'll go from there."

"Yes Ma'am!" He saluted smartly. The effect wasn't spoiled nearly enough by his state of undress, in her opinion, and another part of him was coming to stand at attention.

"Put that away before you poke somebody's eye out," she chided, and fled. His laughter followed her out.


	7. Chapter 7

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(C~S)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_(Earlier that morning)_

Caroline lay curled on the couch, staring at her cellphone like it had offended her, like it held all the answers but wasn't sharing any. Bonnie still wasn't picking up her phone, and her inbox was full of voicemails. She knew how many Bonnie's inbox could hold and, well, there weren't enough from _her_ end to be filling it up that fast. Only about a quarter of them could have been attributed to Caroline's "Bonnie… it's me. Please call me back (_sniffle_)," messages. Elena's phone was going straight to voicemail, not even bothering to ring. Matt's, too. She'd even thought to call Jeremy to see if he knew where Bonnie and Elena were. She texted. She hollered at the empty room, "Why isn't anybody answering their damn phone?" She'd just about given up hope when Stefan had called in.

So now she dialed, waited, hung up, cried, and dialed some more in the hopes that Bonnie would finally answer. She needed a friend, somebody to tell her why the world stopped turning. She needed to know how she was going to keep on living when the love of her life was gone forever.

She heard Stefan's footfalls on the walk and flew up to answer the door. The blinds over the window _swished_ as she wrenched it open wide. Stefan walked with his head down, hesitated as he looked up and caught sight of her. She knew she looked a mess; mascara smudged all over, hair in disarray from tugging on it, clothes she wore the night before hanging wrinkled on her body, but did he have to give her such a pitying look? Compassion she could handle. But Pity? She crumpled inward as the tears came rushing back.

Suddenly, he was there, ushering her inside gently and closing the door behind them. She was back on the couch and finally, _finally _being held and consoled by somebody who cared. The sobs that wracked her threatened to shake her completely apart. Now she felt as though she could fall to pieces properly, because he was there to hold her together. After an age of incoherent sobs punctuated with "Tyler!"s and "Dead!" and enough tears to soak Stefan's collar through, she quieted. He said nothing of consequence the entire time she cried herself out, only made soothing noises and promises that it would be all right, promises she knew there was no way in hell he could keep. After that, he just held her for as long as she wanted it. He made no move to put her away, but let her pull back in her own time.

"Better?" he asked softly, peering with concern into her face as she tried to dry it.

She nodded, sniffling, "A little."

"I'm sorry, Caroline, but I have to ask. Did you get ahold of Bonnie?"

"No. I've left… so many voicemails. She's not answering. Neither is anyone else."

Stefan's brow furrowed. "That's… not good. The last time anyone saw her was Damon, at the storage facility."

"Do you think maybe that Ric did something to her?"

"I don't know. Maybe. The only way we'll know for sure is to talk to Jeremy."

"What would Jeremy have to do with it?"

"He can ask Rick."

"I know that he wanted to make Jeremy his evil apprentice when he failed with Elena and all, but are we sure he won't just kill Jeremy a bunch of times until his dark side comes out? That is, if he's even willing to talk to him after our plan to trick him failed…" she babbled on, her brain going a mile a minute.

"Caroline, stop… just listen. You don't know what happened after Klaus was staked."

"I know that Klaus went up in flames and then, Tyler… well, he…. _he died!" _ She dissolved into crying once again. Stefan shushed her and held her all over again, resigned to settle into a long morning of trying to console her while simultaneously figuring out how best to break more bad news to her.

A little while later, he felt the need to ask, "Should I get a pint of ice cream out of the freezer?"

"No," she hiccuped, shaking her head. "I ate it all."

"Ok, how about a cup of tea?"

"Put some vodka in it," she sniffled, curling down into the couch as he vacated it for the kitchen.

"Vodka. Check."

"Better yet, just bring the vodka and forget the tea," she called after him. She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her middle as she curled up into the fetal position, trying to hold her insides in. She felt like she was dying. She'd done it before, but this seemed somehow worse. With death came oblivion, or at least temporary relief. The pain inside her now just kept gnawing and growing with no release in sight. She hated how much harder heartbreak hurt when she was a vampire. She needed distraction, needed a way out of the hole she was in.

Stefan returned with the half-empty bottle and held it out to her. She sat up, unscrewed the cap, and tossed it off into a shadowy recess before raising the bottle to her lips. Several gulps helped to quench the tears that still threatened to fall from her eyes. She kept waiting for the ducts to dry out, but they never did.

"I need to tell you something. You might not like it, so I need you to promise me that you'll hear me out before you say or do anything else," he prefaced, slowly sitting on the coffee table and settling his forearms across his knees. He clasped his hands together in silent supplication.

"Can I keep drinking while you tell me?" she asked hesitantly over the rim of the bottle, which hovered in her grasp, never far from her mouth.

"Of course," he replied, confused that she felt the need to ask.

"Okay." She gave a long pull on the bottle, hunting up fortification in the clear liquid, gasped as it burned, and leveled a hard stare at him. "So tell me."

He hesitated, searching for words. "Alaric is dead. Finally and totally dead." He let that sink in.

"Good," she spat out bitterly. "He was an asshole." She took another swig.

He waited for her to put the pieces together.

"But if he's dead, that means… Elena… oh, God, Stefan!" Suddenly, it was she who gave the look of compassion and pity. She reached out to him, touching his arm with her free hand.

"She… was in the truck with Matt, coming back to say goodbye to all of us, when we thought Klaus was the sire of our bloodline. Rebeckah ambushed them on the bridge. She called me, to I don't know, gloat or something right before the truck got there. She figured she couldn't kill Ric, but Elena was human, and therefore… Well, Matt swerved and they went over the rail. I got there as fast as I could. The truck was already fully submerged, filled up with water. Matt was unconscious in the driver's seat. Elena was still awake and aware enough to insist that I save Matt, first. I didn't want to, but I listened. I got Matt out first. As soon as I had him out of the water and up on the bank, I went back in after her. She was already dead."

Silent tears streaked Caroline's face as he spun out his tale. She pulled back her hand and let it fall uselessly to her lap. True to her word, she said nothing, but kept taking pulls off the bottle. Inside, her heart broke for him, and for the loss of her friend.

"The ambulance rushed them both to the hospital. The paramedics tried but were unable to resuscitate her. Matt regained consciousness briefly. He's all right, but Elena… well, when she'd hit her head trying to get away from Klaus, she'd been much worse off than Dr. Fell let on. Meredith had given her blood. Vampire blood."

"You mean… she's a… a…"

"She completed the transition right before the sun came up this morning."

"But she's okay! She's not dead!"

"No, she's not okay. But she will be. Eventually."

"You bastard!" Caroline yelled, whacking him across the arm with her throw pillow. "You should have told me that, first! Where is she?"

"She's at the boarding house. She can't leave until dark."

"Oh yeah," she muttered. "The sun."

"That's why we need to find Bonnie. She's the only way I know of to get Elena a day-walking ring."

She frowned, thinking hard. "I hate to be the one to say so, but maybe it's better that she's stuck there until she learns to control herself."

Stefan shook his head. "The council knows too much about all of us. She's not safe there, trapped inside where they can burn the house down around her. They don't know what she is, yet, but that won't stop her from dying if they decide to try it as a means of getting Damon or me."

"Ok, so we need to find Bonnie. And then we all need to get the hell out of this town before somebody else dies."

"Agreed," he said, standing. She remained seated, unwilling to jump up and head off on another adventure just yet. "Are you going to be ok?"

"No." She sighed heavily. "But I'll handle it. Just like I've handled every other stupid thing this stupid world has thrown my way."

"You know, if you need to talk, or a shoulder to cry on, all you need to do is ask."

"I know. Thanks, Stefan."

"Don't mention it. What are friends for?" He held out his hand. She glanced at it, then up at him, and then back to his hand. Finally, she rolled her eyes and put her own hand in his. He hauled her up and off the couch. She looked to the vodka, still held by the neck in her grasp, and raised it up to her lips once more.

She dropped it, letting it bounce, empty, on the cushions of the sofa. "I'm going to get cleaned up."

An hour later, she emerged from the bathroom. Brushing her hair and putting on clothes and makeup seemed to restore her to proper Caroline form, but a weary sadness still lurked in every move she made. "So," she said with mock-brightness. "Where to first?"

"Well, if it were anyone else but Bonnie who'd gone missing, I'd just have her do a locater spell."

"And we're fresh out of witches, unless you know of any stashed away somewhere. Any other bright ideas?"

"We could go to the storage facility, try to pick up her scent and track her from there."

"Hmm, no. Too time-consuming and far away in case of an emergency."

"All right. Maybe you'd like to suggest something?"

Caroline was silent for a moment, lost in thought. All of her scheming mean-girl brainpower was put to the task of coming up with a viable solution. Stefan felt, if not for the first time, rather intimidated by the dizzying calculations that seemed to be going on behind her deceptively pretty face. "Well, it would seem to me that Bonnie has a lot of interested parties watching her on the other side. Jeremy might be able to contact one of them. Maybe her Gran would know where to look for her."

He couldn't find fault with the logic of it. Her plan was simple, elegant, and had the smallest margin of error between any of the options available to them. "Give me your keys. I'll drive."

"Fine, Geeves. Have it your way." She swayed a little in her heels. "Probably for the best," she admitted as she got her keys out of her purse and held them out to him, jingling.

Caroline was uncharacteristically silent through most of the drive. She wasn't the type to brood, Stefan thought. Grief did things to people, made them harder. More cynical. He would give anything in that moment to restore her to the carefree girl she'd been when they first met, even put up with her clumsy attempts at flirting with him. He hated to see her brought so low. She's been all sunshine and life, a bright spot in a continuously darkening world. Another light dimmed by tragedy.

Days like these, he hated what he was, that things like him existed to go bump in the night, snuffing out all the lights, one innocent girl at a time.

They arrived at the Gilbert house to find it empty. Deserted.

Caroline tried Jeremy's phone again. No luck.

As they paced on the front porch, Caroline threw up her hands in aggravation. "Okay, so maybe he's at the Grill." She caught his dry stare. "What? He works there, now. Just because our lives grind to a halt every week or so doesn't mean that the normal people stop going to work and making dinner and stuff. Life goes on."

"You're absolutely right. Maybe Jeremy's disappearance has _nothing_ to do with the fact that he's a Gilbert, his sister's a vampire, and he has a ring that lets him cheat death-twin to the one which drove Rick, along with a Gilbert ancestor or two insane-not to mention the fact that he talks to ghosts or was the boyfriend of a witch, who is also missing. I'll bet it's entirely unrelated."

"Sarcasm looks terrible on you," Caroline pouted. "Even when you were evil, at least you were honest about it."

"Let's just… find him. Ok?" Stefan ran a hand reflexively through his hair, mussing it in his aggravation.

"We'll check the Grill. Then, if we don't find him, we'll panic. All right?"

"Right," he sighed. "Good plan."

They trudged back to the car and Stefan got it pointed in the direction of the Grill. Driving there was mechanical, by that point. Auto-pilot.

"When was the last time you've eaten? You look… pinchy," Caroline mentioned out of the blue.

"This morning," he replied with a wry tone, "Right before I called you."

"Animals?"

"Yep."

"Well, then. I guess that means you're back off the human stuff."

"Not… entirely, just for now while Elena is so unstable. I don't want to set a bad example."

Caroline fell silent once again. He could _hear_ her thoughts whirling and grinding like gears. She took a breath now and again, as if to speak, but she'd frown and think better of it, and close her mouth to think some more. Finally, she let the words go, before she lost her nerve. "You already are and you just don't know it. How will being so on edge help her? Just… take care of yourself and let Damon look after Elena for a little while. As much of a monster as he can be and as much as he's done to me, personally, he's always maintained some form of cool or control, even when he was at his worst."

"He used you as a chew-toy, and you're advising me to let him look after the girl I love?"

She frowned again. Stefan was beginning to think of that look as her 'contemplative' expression. When she replied, her tone was soft and low. "He loves her, too. You know that he'd never do anything to hurt her."

"I know."

"That includes letting her hurt anybody else that she cares about, and Elena cares about _everyone_."

"Might be that she did. I'm not so sure if that's true any more. You didn't see her this morning."

"Would you… like to tell me about it?"

Stefan gave a heavy sigh. "Her instincts are too raw, too strong and new right now. She hasn't learned how to fight them. When I left, she was ripping into a blood bag. She'd knocked Damon down to get at it."

"And you think that means that she's shut it all off."

"Don't you?"

"I've seen that girl devour an entire chocolate cake. Episodes of Dawson's Creek have outlasted pints of ice cream that have fallen into her it comes to food, Elena doesn't mess around. If it weren't for the fact that she exercises so much, she'd be at least four dress sizes bigger right now. So, no. I don't think that means she's shut it all off. She's just being Elena on one of her binges."

"I guess I never thought of it that way."

"Elena likes to eat." Caroline shrugged. "Now that she's a vampire, her gluttonous side has gotten a bit of a boost, along with the rest of her. She's still Elena, just… more Elena than you've probably ever seen at once. You know her pretty well, but you've only been around since the accident. I've known her a lot longer. She was different before her parents died. Who's to say that some of that person isn't still in there, just beneath the surface? You may not know her as well as you think you do."

"That's… oddly reassuring, Caroline. Thank you."

"Glad to help. Now come on, let's go find our missing ghost whisperer."

Stefan parked Caroline's SUV behind the Grill. Before they could get out to go check inside, Jeremy was there, sliding into the backseat smelling of fried food and dish soap.

"I can't stay long. I'm only on a five-minute break. Bonnie's Grams told me to tell you that she's fine and she doesn't want to be found, so not to worry. She got your messages, Caroline, and Damon's too. I think she'll be back to help Elena whenever she's done with what she's up to that she doesn't want us to know about. Grams wouldn't say."

"So we just wait?" Stefan asked, his tone rife with incredulity. Didn't Bonnie know the kind of danger Elena was in?

"We wait," Jeremy shrugged. "With Rick out of the way and the Mayor and Sherif deposed, the council is scrambling for leadership. I don't think they'll be acting any time soon. Just to be on the safe side, I think you all should find a new base of operations before they figure out who's in charge and start taking action. I'll meet you all at the lake house when my shift is over. It's technically mine now, so you'll need me to invite you in. Gotta go."

Jeremy went sliding out again, leaving a car with two stunned vampires inside.

"When did he go and get so…." Caroline trailed off, hands fluttering wildly as her thoughts.

"Grown-up?" Stefan finished for her.

"Yeah, that."

"Somewhere between losing every family member he'd ever had and then having the benefit of all the helpful ghostly advice he could handle would be my guess."

"Right." She blew out a puff of air to toss her bangs back as she sat back in her seat, the definition of nonplussed. "So we have some waiting to do."

"What do you want to do now?"

"Check on Matt?" She paused, then suddenly shot up in her seat, "Unless you want to go check in on Elena, to make sure she's not freaking out or anything."

"No, no. You were right. I'm the liability to her now. I trust Damon to take care of her."

"Matt it is, then. To the hospital, Geeves."

_(TBC)_

A/N

I know, I know. I left Elena and Damon off at a bit of a cliff-hanger in the last chapter, but I thought it was important to get a little perspective to what _else_ was going on.

Are you mad at me?

Review and tell me so! (Also, I have a general idea of where I'm going with this, but the specifics are all fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants. So, I'm open to suggestions. *Wink wink*)


	8. Chapter 8

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(D~E)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Elena wasn't kidding when she said she was going to have a drink. One of the things that Damon had passed to her through his blood was the knowledge that _yes_ in fact, alcohol helped curb the cravings for blood. It wasn't just something they said to excuse alcoholic behavior in the middle of the day, but it was a damn good excuse, rooted in fact.

Elena had never been one for casual day-time drinking. She'd never made it to her twenty-first birthday, so keeping enough alcohol around to support that kind of habit was a bit of a problem. Although she really couldn't stand the taste of beer, it was readily available at the big parties in the woods. The cheap stuff always was.

Damon's top-shelf bourbon was to those libations as his Pasta Primavera was to Chef Boyardee, she mused as amber glints danced through the glass in her hand, catching her eye. The first two fingers had disappeared quickly, to erase the remaining chemical burning with a more pleasant one in her mouth's soft tissues. The second round had been for courage, for the conversation that was to come once Damon finished primping and made his infuriatingly leisurely way down into the parlor. That shot had disappeared almost as quickly as the first. The third shot was currently residing in her grasp, catching the light from the perpetually lit fireplace, and she meant to savor it.

The intentional scrape of stylish wingtip on parquet floor alerted her to his arrival. She glanced back with a small smile as he went to the sideboard for his own glass of courage. He put on a brave face, that much was sure. She hadn't quite figured out exactly what she was going to say, but his posture tried to hide any inkling of nervousness, and failed. She could read it in his intentionally casual pose and calm, precise movements. After everything they shared, that very real glimpse inside of him, she knew him better than anyone at that moment. She also knew she was as transparent to him as he was to her.

She heaved a huge sigh and broke it off with a chuckle. "This is ridiculous," she muttered. "You're afraid that I'm going to revert to form and try to take back what happened between us, try to rationalize away everything we both know I feel for you."

"The thought occurred," Damon conceded, knocking back the glass in his hand and going for another. "So, are you?"

"No. I'm not. That would be pointless and, ultimately? One of the cruelest things I could ever do to you. I'm not cool with the thought of being deliberately cruel, no matter what I've become."

"Good to know."

"I'm afraid of what will happen between now and the next time I can actually talk to Stefan."

He took the glass from her hand and placed it on the mantle. She made no move of protest at all. "Would it be dumb of me to ask what happens now?" he murmured, taking her deceptively fragile hand in his. His long, elegant fingers, filled with warmth and strength captivated her attention as she fought for equilibrium. Just that casual touch had her stomach flip-flopping with butterflies and her mouth going dry. It took every ounce of self control she had to really give the matter due consideration before she could allow herself to fall into his arms again.

"I don't know. I love you, Damon. I want you with a passion that scared me then, and scares me a little even now that I'm… well, different. The biggest difference now is that I'm able to be honest about it, at least."

"And what about my brother? Did that change too?"

"You know it didn't. I hate myself for it, but I love him just as much as I always have."

"And so the eternal question: what does that mean for us?" His hands waved in an all-encompassing gesture, effectively including even those who were not present, and one other in particular. Stefan.

"I don't know." She shook her head and took away her hands. Crossing her arms protectively over her chest, she paced away. "All this time, I've lived with the fact that I would have to choose one of you and lose the other. If not forever, at least for a long, long time. Maybe for the rest of my natural life. Now that it looks like I'm not going to have one of those, things are, well…" She turned and reached back to Damon once more, instantly gratified that he didn't hold back and renewed the casual contact she'd severed while she'd tried to think. "I've called myself every name in the book while I lay up there, lost in my own head. I think what happens now will depend a lot on what you want to happen. Both of you. I can't go on pretending any more. I don't want to lie, either."

He was quiet for a long time, after that. He held her hand and stared into the fire. She let his thoughts go where they may and contented herself with cataloguing every surface of his features. She had thought he was beautiful before, but now, she saw so many things at once. So many little details were swept away from her conscious mind when she was only human, letting in only those important to the overall tapestry of the moment. So many of those little details screamed out at her, now that she was changed, each requiring its own moment of reflection and acknowledgement. She could get lost forever just staring at the firelight dancing on the ebony that was his hair, with each strand possessing its own tiny nimbus of reflected light. It wasn't merely black hair she saw, now, but the myriad of hues and shades of red, blue, and violet which blended together in the dark, revealed within those strands as the light played over it. His skin, where merely 'pale' before, held so many different tints of rose and cream in her vision, she was sure there wasn't a name in existence for all of them. Seeing him like this now, all his beauty hitting her in full force with so many little details as to make the word and the idea behind it woefully inadequate, she wished she could see the sun. She knew the experience of a sunset would completely take her over, if she allowed it. In the meantime, it was his eyes which she set about contemplating with the purity of focus she'd given to the rest of him, eyes which she had found bewitching in their intensity while mortal held even more fascination for her, now.

It was quite some time before she'd realized that he had turned from the fire and indulged in the same intense inspection of her person as she was enjoying of him. She'd completely lost track of how long they stood there, looking at one another, lost in the act of seeing the parts that made the whole.

The grandfather clock in the hall ticked over to the top of the hour, emitting almost a dozen loud chimes, startling her from her inspection. She chuckled nervously as she felt the urge to blush at the jump she made. "I haven't done that in quite a long time," Damon confessed. "It's all so easy to fall into it, when you're new."

"Done what?" Elena replied, glancing back up at him from beneath her lashes and fighting the urge to fidget.

"Allowed myself to become hyper-focused. Near as I can tell, it's an extension of our senses being heightened. Usually for hunting. Like when you can hear things from far away and can focus in on a single conversation, shutting everything else out."

"So it's… normal?"

_"_And highly distracting, if you see what I mean."

"So much to learn," Elena mused aloud, fighting another wave of distraction as he reached up to scratch at the back of his neck ruefully. The motion of the muscles in his arm held the promise of enthrallment.

"So what do you want to do, now? You're basically stuck in here until the sun goes down." He waggled his eyebrows, only half joking.

She sighed and abruptly turned away. "It kills me to think that in order to have one of you in my life, I'll have to lose the other. I never wanted to have to choose. When it seemed like there was only one choice I could really make, I thought I was doing the best thing I could do, in letting you go. Now, though, I can't help but feel that I made it all so much worse. I let you believe that I didn't love you enough, or that somehow you _weren't_ enough. I've been saying all along that it would always be Stefan. But, God I was an idiot. Things seemed so much simpler then. It was easier to be with Stefan when I was a human, when things were so 'safe' and cut and dried in my mind. Now I'm terrified it's just like Katherine all over again… I… I just can't…"

"Shh-shh-shh, no no, it's ok," he murmured, pulling her against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I only wanted to know that you… that I…" She allowed him to hold her close as he trailed off, relishing in the warmth of his regard evident through the gentle hold, then pulled back just a bit so she could look him in the eye.

"That I loved you. That you were loved. I know, and I do. I can't hold my love for you any higher than my love for him, but now at least I can be honest enough to say that I can't hold my love for him to be any higher or more than what I feel for you. But I still can't let what happened happen again until I've talked to Stefan. Cleared the air."

He let out a trembling, incredulous little laugh and cupped her cheek, holding her eyes to his with the intensity in his gaze. "Elena, if you think for one minute that we can go back to the way things were before, that we can feel this pull and not give into it, knowing what awaits when we do, I have some ocean view property in Arizona I'd like to sell you."

"I… can't let it happen again, Damon. Not until I've had a chance to talk to him." Her eyes nearly vibrated, holding back tears that threatened. Her mood was swinging all over the place. First she wanted him so badly she could taste it, then she was trying desperately not to cry.

"Then you'd better have your heart-to-heart _soon, _Elena. I'm not going to make waiting any easier on you, and we both know I can be really persuasive when I want something, and I want _you." _His hands slipped over her clothing and neck, leaving trails of fire as they came to grip her shoulders. The hold wasn't tight or hurting her, but the sureness in his grasp was electrifying. He looked as though he was fighting the urge to shake her, or else coax her into another mind-numbing kiss. He pulled her in closer, his eyes boring down into hers as their noses nearly bumped together, but after a beat, he relented and merely held her there. His eyes slipped closed in a near grimace, releasing hers from their electric hold._ "_I thought that once I knew, once I got you to admit what you felt, that I'd be content to wait. Funny thing is, now that I've tasted you, now that I KNOW," his eyes snapped open again, intense blue fires in their depths holding her captive, "I just want you more. I have more than enough self-control not to touch you again until you've sorted things out, but I'm making the decision not to use it. It'll all be on you and how well you can resist."

"Oh, so you think you're so irresistible that I'll just swoon at the first time you do the 'eye thing'? I've been fighting the urge to kiss you for a while now, too. Don't think I haven't been exercising my own brand of self-control," she said in a light teasing voice, trying to dissipate some of the intensity in his demeanor. She knew things were going to be hard, but she also knew that he loved it when they bantered. She was hoping he'd take the bait and let things rest for the time being.

"Baby, you haven't been on the business end of my charm when I'm _trying_ to get you in bed." He smirked, his eyes dancing with little lights. Inside, she breathed a little sigh of relief. When his good humor returned, he was less of a wild card. She needed that stability just then. Needed him to let her off the hook one more time.

"Is that so?" she countered, slipping away from his hold with a teasing smile. She prowled over to the sideboard in an approximation of Katherine's catlike stalk and went for another glass of bourbon. She knew she didn't do the walk justice, and she hated the thought of trying to be like Katherine, but she needed the gesture to cool some of Damon's ardor. He didn't much care for Katherine any more, and armoring herself behind her double's mannerisms might just keep her from having to put her self control to the test.

She turned with a newly filled glass and gasped. He was right there in front of her, taking her breath away. "Don't do that," he half-commanded, half-pled. "Don't try to act like her to get me to back off."

"Why?" Her brain short-circuited. She hadn't expected him to get so close so soon again. She wasn't prepared…

"It won't work," he murmured low. "I know what you're doing and it's having the opposite effect. It's so _you _that it… it just reminds me of all the differences between you. Why I started falling for you to begin with. It reminds me of when you were just that human girl, standing out in the road, looking exactly like her and being nothing like her at the same time. I think I was falling for you even then."

Her heart nearly melted at his ernest declaration. When he was like this, so sweet and honest and positively… romantic, showing her all the good sides to him at once without the bad-boy facade, she couldn't conjure up a single reason not to drag him into bed and never let him leave. He tempted her with his hidden self and she leaned into him, breathing deep.

"Then I realize why it is you're doing what you're doing and it just pisses me off." His brows turned down into the frown that used to terrify her, the bad boy returning in force. Now that she knew where all that passion and danger came from, where it led, she just found it hot.

"Ok," she said on a breathy sigh. "I won't." She raised the bourbon to her lips, thankful that her hand seemed steady, and took a deep, fortifying gulp. _Plan A backfired. Was there a plan B?_ she thought desperately to herself as he gently took the glass from her and turned it. He drank from the exact spot her lips had just occupied, emptying the glass while holding her captive against the sideboard with his body and his gaze. Wetness began pooling between her legs and she gulped as he sniffed the air. _Oh boy. I'm in trouble._ Her hands itched to grab him-his head, his ass, _anywhere-_and drag him the rest of the way against her, but she gripped the wooden edge of the sideboard and curled her fingers around it tightly.

"Good," he said shortly. "Now that we've got that sorted, how about we get you fed again? You'll be needing it regularly if you want to keep your strength up for the crap that's sure to be raining down any time now."

Back to business, then. The return of sanity was just what she needed, but the loss of that dizzying rush of sexual tension made her feel cheated, somehow. Then there was the _look_ he gave her, a look that said he knew how close she was to losing control, and that it was only a matter of time before he quit pulling her out of the fire and just let it all happen. He stepped back and away from her and cocked his arm out, elbow crooked. His grin said it all. She wasn't going to get away with him not touching her every chance he got, but those touches didn't _all_ have to be inappropriate ones. He was, at some point in his long existence, a gentleman, or at least knew how to act like one.

She rolled her eyes at his playfulness and stepped forward to take his arm. Although she'd never even pretended to be a lady, she too knew how the dance went. It had been drilled into her for the Pageant and despite all the drama going on during that whole time, some of those lessons had sunk in.

His escorting her down into the basement wasn't _all_ for show. She realized that when he pushed her away from the patches of sunlight barring their path through the hall and the kitchen, as she'd momentarily forgotten it would burn her. Once they were descending the narrow stairs leading to the freezer, he let her go first. There was no sun to harm her and though a tumble down the stairs wouldn't kill her, it wouldn't be fun either.

She took the stairs at a dead run, glancing back once at his startled expression before watching where she was going. Somehow, he _still _beat her to the freezer, but she wasn't going to admit she had been trying to race him there.

He had a bag out and the lid closed before she could get a real look to see how much of a supply they had, or more likely be tempted by the feast that awaited inside. She opened her mouth to protest that she was fine, that she wasn't at all hungry, but he just thumbed the cap off the tube and tossed it at her. Once the smell hit her, she was veining out faster than the bag could travel through the air to her and she was suddenly _starving._ She snatched it out of the air and had the tube in her mouth before she knew what came over her.

She tried, she really did, to exert some of the control he had shown her, but with the life-giving blood tasting like heaven in her mouth, she just couldn't stop taking gulp after gulp until the bag was empty. This time, she maintained enough composure not to try to hunt down more of it, but it was a close thing. She stood there, fairly trembling as she locked her muscles in place and snatched the reins back from her instincts. Her throat felt like it was burning, but only for a moment, and when she quit breathing all together and the scent of the remaining blood in the bag could no longer reach her olfactory senses and spur her instincts on, she had enough of a handle over it all to break away from the freezer and dash back upstairs, away from the bag she just dropped on the floor.

As soon as she'd won free of the immediate scent, she stopped, feeling foolish. She dropped her face into her hands and trembled, still wanting to go back and rip open the freezer.

A soft footfall in the general direction from whence she came had her groaning, "I'm such a freaking baby. Can't even manage to be in the same room as blood without vamping out."

"No, no, you did well. Really well. It took me a year to learn not to breathe when I wanted to stop and the smell of blood wouldn't let me."

"How long did it take you to learn not to vamp out when people bled in front of you?" She asked, worried she'd never be able to go to school again.

"After I learned not to breathe? Not long. Meeting Sage did a whole lot for my self-control. You gotta let loose every now and again, keep the beast happy enough to leave you be the rest of the time. That's one thing Stefan never managed to learn."

She shook her head, still disgusted with herself. "I don't know how Caroline did this. I don't know if I have it in me."

"Trust me," he said, striding over and catching her up in his arms, truly smiling. "You do."

She chanced a glance up through her fingers and saw his smile. It was infectious, and she felt instantly better. She dropped her hands and returned his smile, letting herself relax into his hold. The embrace was warm and easy. It felt right, like coming home. No lust stirred her loins, no need of anything more. The closest thing she could compare it to in her life thus far were those easy moments with Stefan, the ones that had made her want to choose him, the ones that told her he was the right choice. She was momentarily stunned by the change, the way it rocked her foundations completely to know that it wasn't _always_ going to be fire and electricity between her and Damon, that there would be calm moments, like the one she found herself in in presently.

She raised her head from the pillow of his chest to look at him. Their eyes caught and held, and she knew at once he felt it, too. That worried her intensely, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. His hand came up to soothe away the worry lines from her brow.

"Just figure it out, did you?" He murmured.

"I honestly haven't. Still working on it," she said huskily. She still felt something intense and dark, an abyss pulling at her toes as his hold was the only thing keeping her on solid ground.

"I got a good look into your heart, Elena, so maybe I can shed some light."

"You're going to tell me what I'm feeling?" she laughed incredulously. "Again?"

"Aren't I usually right about these things?"

She sighed, at a loss, and stared off into the distance, sending her gaze inward so she could gauge the truth in his words. "Be my guest."

"What you're feeling is a mild sort of panic, amplified. You just let yourself feel something with me that you never would before. You felt peace. Happiness, serenity, call it what ever you will. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that it's what you feel some times when you're alone with my brother, the main reason you chose him while you were still human. Then you freaked out, because you had almost completely lost the possibility of experiencing that with me, had almost made a choice that would have denied you that forever."

Her eyes snapped back into focus, coming unerringly back to his. "You're right. That's exactly it. I made the wrong choice and it almost cost me you. I… I have to talk to Stefan. Have to tell him I made a mistake…" She began to panic in earnest. "This is going to kill him, but I can't keep lying to myself and to him. I have to tell him I made my choice and it's not him, oh God, Damon…"

"Shh, no wait. Hang on. I know I'm going to regret this with every fiber of my being, but you need to slow your roll, sweetheart. I need to know something right now, before I let you tear through this house, looking for a phone to call Stefan here."

"What? What do you need to know?"

"Just tell me one thing. What, besides knowing that, has thrown your decision so heavily in my favor? An hour ago, you loved us both equally, so what was the thing on my end keeping things balanced so neatly?"

"I don't know if I should tell you. Your ego is inflated enough as it is," she muttered.

"Now I really _have _to know," he grinned wolfishly.

"It's just like you said, the night we first met. The real first meeting, I mean. Passion, excitement, maybe a little danger. You consume me, Damon. I can hardly think straight for the _passion_ most of the time. Sexual tension so thick you can cut it with a knife, and GOD the things your body can do to mine…"

"Mmhmm… now, before I toss you over my shoulder and take you back upstairs to finish that thought completely, you need to ask yourself something: does Stefan really not do that for you? Have you spent any time with him, I mean really, since the change? Or all you basing this all on what you felt when you were human?"

"Wait… what?" she stuttered a bit. "You're trying to convince me to give him a second chance?"

"I know. I must be out of my mind. But if I'm going to win, I want to do so fairly. I don't want there to be any doubts left that may some day take you from me."

"Umm… ok. So what do you want me to do, now?"

"Well, if things stay like they are, I'm going to have to make good on my threat, and then you'll feel all guilty when Stefan gets here and you're going to hold him at arm's length with that guilt. So for the sake of my own good intentions and stupidity, I'm going to call Stefan and tell him it's all clear. _You_ are going to go upstairs and sit on his bed and wait for him. I'll leave as soon as he gets back."

"You're insane."

"I know, but jealousy isn't really a good look on me, so I'm trying to be magnanimous."

"What if he can't forgive me for what's already happened?"

"You mean between us?"

She merely nodded, her eyes huge with trepidation.

"Then I guess I'll be the better man," he smirked. She smacked him lightly on the chest, but nodded her consent.

"Go on," he said, releasing her. As she turned to go, he smacked her on the ass to get her moving faster. "Go, before I change my mind," he pled so she wouldn't bite his head off for sexually harassing her.

She glared and sped off up the stairs, leaving him to shake his head at himself and dial his brother's cell.

~~*v*(TBC)*v*~~

a/n

It's been AGES, I know… but really, life got super complicated so, yeah, excuse my lame-ass, please!

You must be wondering what the hell I think I'm doing… and whether or not Damon's lost his mind. I really didn't intend for things to go that way, believe me! But then Damon got all noble and shit and I just went with it. (Sigh)

Next chapter, Stefan arrives and we get to see whether or not Damon's latest shenanigans net him Elena or just confuse her even more.

May or may not get to Elena meeting Katherine at the Tomb, depends on whether or not Stefan and Elena will cooperate with me.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's preface: You'll shoot me, I know you will, if I don't make this clear _Right__Now!_ This chapter has a Stelena scene, detailed, and your poor eyes might not be able to take it. So I'll be bracketing the scene as best I know how so that you can skip it if you can't handle Stelena. I do what I can to make your experiences happy ones.

Why write a Stelena scene in the first place, do you ask? While it's all fine and dandy that she knows she loves Damon, she never un-fell for Stefan. It would be nice if our lives were pretty and neat and safe like in the fairy tales, but real life isn't like that, kiddies. If you've ever loved two people and been confused before, you'd know that. Life happens to be messy and Elena is not perfect. (Plus, she's kinda hard-wired for love triangles, Katherine and Tatia before her made her that way.)

With a teenaged sex drive stuck on overdrive, how well would you fare?

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(S/E)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_"I'm fine_, Care, really. The Doc's just keeping me here for observation. It's not like I've never been saved from drowning, before." Matt's voice came clear as a bell to Stefan's hearing as he stood outside in the hallway, both to let Caroline have her time with Matt and to be the first line of defense, should the Council members decide to make their move.

"I just… can't bear the thought of losing you, too," Caroline whispered brokenly over the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

The beeping increased ever so slightly, and Stefan figured Caroline must have moved to touch Matt from what she said next. "I'm sorry, is this ok?"

"Yeah. Just took me a little by surprise. You move fast."

"Are you afraid of me?" she choked up a little, her emotions still running on overdrive.

"Not afraid, exactly, no…" he admitted.

"Oh," she said, and Stefan could _feel _her blush. So it was like that, was it?

"Uh… yeah."

"Still?"

"Care, I never really got over you. The… vampire thing," he said, _sotto_ voice, "only buried it for a little bit, and then you were with Tyler, and I couldn't say anything, but, yeah. Once I realized you were still, well, _you_ and not some… thing like your Mom said, I realized what an ass I was."

"Matt, I…"

Stefan's cell chose that moment to go off, and he lost whatever else might have been said under its high-pitched screeching. The caller I.D. made him answer immediately.

"Damon, everything ok?" he answered without preamble, terrified that somebody on the Council had decided to make a move, despite the confusion in their ranks.

"All clear, brother. Come on home, she's waiting for you."

"I, uh, I'll be there as soon as I can," he swallowed, suddenly nervous. "I'm at the hospital with Caroline and Matt."

"Can't really give a crap about the quarterback who lived, right now. Get your ass here." Abruptly, Damon hung up.

Stefan stared at his phone, confusion and indecision etched across his face.

"Go," Caroline murmured softly behind his shoulder. He hadn't even heard her approach. "Go on I'll be fine here."

He looked at her for a moment, gauging the sincerity behind her soft smile and still-sad eyes. He read hope there, too.

Figuring he needed a bit more convincing, Caroline turned up the wattage in her smile. "Go be with your epic love before I have to toss you out."

Stefan gave a scoffing, incredulous laugh and shook his head at how easily Caroline could put herself aside. Whoever had called her shallow needed a swift kick in the pants, he decided. "Ok, Care," he smiled, his voice soft with respect for her. "You win. Take care of Matt."

Her smile sobered, became benevolent and calm. "I will."

"Ok," he said again, giving her one last little smile before walking slowly away down the hall. Before he walked through the double doors at the end, he looked back one more time, satisfied that she'd gone back into the room that held the boy who still lived, and loved her.

He walked to his car, almost in a daze, trying to decipher Damon's tone of voice from the little he'd heard, now that he wasn't terrified for Elena's safety. He sounded ticked off, at the very least. Maybe he'd had enough of Elena's newborn volatility and needed a break from babysitting. Maybe this was Damon's way of telling him he was leaving town and that he'd accomplished in a few hours teaching Elena control, the one thing he couldn't teach Stefan. Maybe Elena had enough of Damon's high-handed behavior and was demanding he bring Stefan there to be their go-between, the voice of reason in their constant fighting. Maybe Damon needed to go bury a body. Thoughts and scenarios swirled around inside his head as he made the drive back to the Boarding House for the second time that day, and before he knew it, he was shoving Caroline's keys back inside his pocket, watching as Damon kicked off from leaning against the railing by the front door.

"What's happened?" Stefan asked him, waylaying his brother as he did his level best to stalk away.

"Nothing's _happened_, brother," Damon fairly growled at him. "She's fed twice, now, and she's calmly waiting for you to drag yourself upstairs to see her. She's being very good and very patient, so please don't let me keep you."

"Then why do you smell like her?" Stefan rebutted, getting in close and pushing him back.

"I had to wrestle her to the ground to keep her from tearing into the basement supply, after you left," Damon shrugged him off, straightening his jacket with a well-practiced flick of his wrists. "Now if you're done with the interrogation, there's a meal out there somewhere with my name on it. She took mine."

Stefan let him go with a suspicious frown. Everything Damon said had been the absolute truth, he was sure of it, but there was more to it than what was said. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but had no excuse to hold him any longer. Damon took on foot, so Stefan was positive that he wasn't leaving town. His blue classic car twinkled in the sun, but Damon barely spared it a glance as he blurred away.

Sudden as a slap, the nervousness returned. Stefan took a short calming breath, trying to get it together. What was that feeling? Was he bracing for something bad to happen? Nerves? What? He stood still for a long moment, just inside the door, looking at the stairs that would lead him up to her, and he realized it was the same way he'd felt the first time she led him up those stairs. He was nervous, yes, but there was anticipation, too. He felt like a bridegroom, he decided, then felt a grin split his face as he raced up those stairs and slid to a stop just inside the door frame.

Elena sat as she'd been bid, just on the edge of Stefan's freshly-made bed, chewing her lip when she heard the exchange outside. She kept waiting for Damon to tell Stefan about what they'd done. She dreaded it, but she hoped he would, too, so she wouldn't have to. She both heard and _felt_ Damon leave, and couldn't quell the feeling that he'd left her to her fate. They both knew Stefan had lost control in the past, had truly hurt her, but he'd left them alone together anyway. Was he insane?

_What the hell is taking him so long?_

The look on Stefan's face as he slid to a stop inside the doorway nearly robbed her of her wits. _When was the last time he looked like that? Looked so happy?_

"Elena," Stefan breathed, and the sheer longing and joy in his voice slammed into her like a physical thing. His strides began eating up the distance between them and she stood, completely undecided about what she would do when he reached her.

"Stefan," she whispered out without meaning to, her nerves jangling full force. _What if I'm too different? What if there's nothing there to feel? What if he can't stand to touch me any more?_ Her guilt lay buried under a thousand insecurities.

His lips found hers unerringly and suddenly her emotions were as placid as a lake made out of glass. That feeling of coming _home _was intensified beyond her wildest dreams. The touch was so familiar, his scent surrounding her so completely that for the moment, there wasn't a single thought in her head about what she might have to tell him or what choices she'd have to make.

Her love for him blossomed within her breast, slowly and surely moving under her skin like syrup until her limbs were suffused with it, her nerve-endings tingled with it, and then his mouth opened and hers did in automatic response. His tongue delving in added a spark of fire to the syrup, proving it to be _napalm. _She let out a startled moan as her lady parts sang into readiness, wondering for a moment why in _hell_ he hadn't kissed her like this before he'd left. She was convinced she wouldn't have let him leave if he had.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Warning! Warning, Will Robinson! Don't read any further if Stefan and Elena makes you ill!~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

_**Stelena Insues!**_

(Just… pretend the camera went to the curtains or something, or… here! Look at these _keys_ I'm jingling!)

He drugged her with his kisses, just like he used to in the beginning, back before the Originals and the Sacrifice and all those horrid months of pain and grief and pulse-pounding fear. He acted like he could go on kissing her forever, and she'd be inclined to let him if there wasn't such an urgent, pressing question in the back of her mind. If this was what his kisses felt like, how would the rest of it compare? Without conscious thought, she was tearing at his shirt, tugging it over his head. The burning desire to feel him completely drowned out the niggling voice of her conscience, asking how she could do this with him only hours after she'd been with his brother. None of it mattered just then, only that she loved him and wanted him with her in every way possible.

The shirt came away and was tossed aside, its passage mussing his hair, making him look wild and untamed. The stupid little voice in the back of her head couldn't help but speculate that Damon favored button-downs to prevent just such a thing, but the thought quickly fled her mind just like all other thoughts as his arms came back down and nimble fingers tantalized her skin where he gripped the hem of her own shirt and repeated her motions, divesting her as well. He hauled her back against him, his movements coming faster and less careful with the urgency, the need to feel her skin once more. The collision of her flat stomach against his abs made an audible smack, and she was winding fingers into his hair, mussing it further still, dragging his lips over hers, over and over, trying to climb inside his skin.

Smooth hands captured her back, caressing upward, making her feel small and delicate with their size and strength. Nimble and quick for their size, her bra clasp didn't stand a chance against the practiced motion of his fingertips. Soon, that scrap was sagging forward, sliding off her arms onto the floor when she surrendered it to gravity. Like magnets with opposite charges, they collided once again, chest-to-chest, lips to lips, need to need.

Elena's pert little nipples dragged over Stefan's skin, twin points of sweetest friction, spurring on his desperate lust. He'd wanted to take his time, to savor her and get to know her body all over again, but there was no stopping them, not now. Not when they'd been apart for so long. He felt like he was starving for her. Before he knew it, her jeans were being pushed to the floor and she was stepping out of them as he urged her onto her back, onto the bed. Somewhere in the fog his consciousness had become, he noticed that she'd changed the blankets while she was waiting for him, and he was grateful he wouldn't have to smell the lake water that would have reminded him of how he'd let her die and probably ended what they'd started in the worst possible way. Her hands found his zipper, his focus narrowed completely on her once more, and he became unaware of their surroundings. Even if a marching band came through his room just then, he probably wouldn't notice. Her hand slipped in through the slit in his boxers, circled him, and he _knew_ he wouldn't notice, even if the building was on fire. He wrestled with the urge to come in her hand, so intense was his need. He didn't want it to be over so soon, so he grabbed her wrist with more force than he initially intended and pinned it above her head with a growl that startled him momentarily, until she arched up against him and growled right back, nearly bucking him off of her with the force of the motion of her hips.

The animal in him took over completely as awareness dawned that he wouldn't hurt her, now that she was _like him._ He let go of the tight rein he always kept on himself, on his motions and his desires. He tore his jeans off, tore his underwear, tore hers, his motions swift and unrestrained as she made a pleased purring sound in the back of her throat. The head of his cock bumped up against her dripping core and he was lost, lost to the sensation of her naked body welcoming him at last. He drove forward, embedded to the hilt, and their triumphant shout echoed through the rafters, together.

He pulled out halfway and plunged into her again, hitting that delicious spot that made her toes curl and her eyes roll back in her head. Liquid, drugging heat pooled from her center, suffusing her limbs with his every stroke, dragging her ever onward to the pinnacle of fulfillment. She drowned in pleasure, unable to see or think about anything outside the bed where they lay, outside of the pushing and pulling of their bodies as they strained together.

Furiously, they coupled, manic and crying out with each punishing plunge. Climax came upon her, bearing down like a freight train and setting her every pore alight with the magic of it. "Stefan!" she cried, her body strung tight like a bow, quaking all over. Her inner muscles clamped and released intensely, drawing him further in than ever before, milking him with a strength that was nearly painful on his over-sensitized nerves.

"Elena!" he shouted in response, when he could go on no longer, when the pressure was too much and he felt it blow out from the base of his spine, a red-hot arrow shooting straight out from his groin, down his shaft, and into her clenching depths.

Shaking, quaking, arched and nearly frozen in place they held on for dear life while the aftershocks pinged and ricocheted all through their systems. Feeling as though his limbs had been infused with embalming fluid, he disengaged slowly and fell wearily to the side with a groan.

_**End S/E**_

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Whew! It is now safe to return your tray to the upright position)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

The world returned to Elena in increments, and her eyes drifted open only to be caught in the liquid emerald of her lover's gaze.

The bed chose that moment to give an ominous groan beneath them. The groan was accompanied by a creak and then the whole structure lurched hard toward the right, before collapsing completely, finally coming to rest on the ground with a crash. Panic resided in his expression, and in her wide-eyed stare as well.

"We broke the bed," she whispered, as if an angry parent would be coming up to investigate, as if they'd be scolded for destroying the furniture.

"I honestly didn't think that was possible," he whispered, too, gazing about at the destruction in awe. The were, undoubtedly, about two feet closer to the floor than they had been before. "It's Oak."

"The screws aren't," she pointed out distantly, staring up at the ceiling shell-shocked. "Or maybe just the brackets failed."

"Why are we whispering?"

She couldn't find a plausible answer for her behavior, or at least one that didn't leave her sounding like a sex-addled teenager, and suddenly the whole situation struck her as unbearably funny, and she would die if she didn't burst out laughing. So she did.

Still not quite sure what exactly had happened, Stefan merely stared at her for a few seconds, confused.

"We broke… the bed!" she managed between gales of laughter. "The hundred-year-old… built-to-last… solid oak…. bed!"

He found her so beautiful in her laughter, so carefree and full of light that his heart filled up with her all at once. He was struck with the feeling of the most profound joy that he was able to witness her like this, to be a part of what made her so, even though he didn't quite understand what exactly had struck her so silly. He had no idea she had such mirth in her, after all the pain she endured and the losses she suffered, but was glad for it. Suddenly, he was laughing right along with her, whether from the catharsis finally catching up to him or sheer joy of seeing her happy, he couldn't tell.

"I had thought… was worried that… oh, God I thought some parent was going to come storming in here, demanding what all the noise was about!" she gasped out, fighting desperately for breath and composure.

Stefan let out a snort at this, shaking his head ruefully. "Nope. I haven't had parents for a hundred and forty years, give or take. No one to answer to, Elena. No one but me, that is. You broke my bed."

"You're gonna blame that ALL on ME?" she shrieked through her laughter.

"Entirely all your fault," he declared, catching her to him and rolling her on top. Her hair cascaded around them in a chocolate curtain, lights dancing in her laughing eyes. "You're quite the little hellcat in the sack, you know," he quipped, still chuckling.

"God, and here I thought we were going to be all…" she waved a hand around vaguely.

"What?" he prompted, stroking some of her hair back behind her shoulder.

"Vanilla," she declared, emphasizing the 'L' with the flick of her tongue. He scoffed in protest, only half-jesting. "You have to admit, you never lost control like that with me before," she pointed out, her laughter finally dying away.

"Couldn't afford to. I didn't want to hurt you."

"I realize that. _Now_," she said, rolling her eyes. Heaven help her, she almost wished it _had_ been mediocre. It would have made things so cut and dried. Now she was more confused than ever, and while she couldn't make the choice between them, she also couldn't keep something like what she was struggling with a secret from him any longer. She sobered completely, and looked down at him with trepidation.

"What is it, Elena?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Oh?"

"I want you to promise me you'll hear me out, though, before you do anything."

"You know you can tell me anything, Elena, but if it makes you feel better, I promise. I'll hear you out."

She bit her lip, still uncertain.

"Is it about Denver?"

Shit. Well, Denver was somewhere to start, at any rate. "Yeah…" she trailed off, wondering if that was indeed the place she wanted to begin.

"I told you, you don't need to tell me about that unless… unless you're saying you… choose me… is that what this is about?"

She frowned, not wanting to give him false hope and string him along. She _still_ hadn't decided "Not exactly." She sighed and rolled back off to the side, needing to sit up and try to explain herself properly. "You said you'd listen. You promised."

"All right, I'm listening." He propped himself on an elbow as she peered down at him, sitting Indian style on the bed.

She took a deep breath, and blew it right back out. "I met Damon for the first time the night my parents died. I don't remember him because he compelled me to forget. He didn't want it getting out he was back in Mystic Falls just then. He didn't hurt me… confused me for Katherine at first. Even called me by her name. Funny, but true." Just then, he didn't look like he found it funny, but he kept any comments he may have made to himself. "I remembered, as I was recuperating here, before I woke up. I'm still not sure if I can get my head around the differences."

"What differences?"

"That wasn't the first time he compelled me to forget." Suddenly, she was telling him about Damon's confession the night Rose and Trevor kidnapped her, and the rest flowed like water from her lips. It seemed once the dam was broken, there was no stopping the flood. She told him about what happened in Damon's room, the night Stefan traded himself to Klaus for his brother's cure, about the months he'd been gone and they'd searched for him. About how Damon helped train her while Stefan had it all turned off and she refused to let his callousness break her, about her dreams of her parents, her mother's advice to set Matt free, and how when she woke, she thought it best to do the same for Damon. They were both in tears when she recounted her conversation with Damon over the phone as she rushed back to Mystic Falls, word for word, before Rebeckah appeared on the bridge, causing Matt to swerve off.

"All that time, my actions and my perceptions had been based off of who I thought he was, because of how _you_ felt about him, but when I first met him, he wasn't anything like the heartless loose cannon he portrayed. I know he's done terrible things, Stefan, but in the end he only ever tried to protect me. You asked me, before Denver, whether or not I had feelings for Damon, and I told you I didn't know. I know now."

"You love him," he said softly, sadly.

"Yes."

"But you 'never un-fell' for me."

"Obviously. What just happened between us never would have otherwise."

"Did you tell him?"

"Yes."

"And he called me."

A beat, then, "Yes."

"What happened today, Elena? After I left?"

"I… a lot." She lowered her eyes, unable or unwilling to look at him any more.

"Care to expand on that?" He asked, sounding, for the first time, a little ticked off.

She finally forced herself to look him in the eye, fixed him with her stare and said nothing.

He drew in a sharp breath, and with it, made his own conclusion. "That's why he smelled like you."

She still couldn't bring herself to say a damn thing, either to confirm or to deny it.

He stared at her, waiting for her to say something, but the guilt that crept over her face spoke volumes. Betrayal cut like a lance through him and he was suddenly up off the bed, throwing on clothing, unable to bear to be in the same room, hell, the same _building_ as her any more. He felt sick inside. Hadn't he told Damon the past wasn't going to repeat itself? Hadn't she proclaimed, over and over, that it was _never going to happen?_

"Stefan… what are you doing?"

"Oh, so finally she speaks," he bit out angrily, shoving on his shoes. "I have to get out of here. I can't stand the sight of you right now."

"Where are you going?"

"Away," he retorted, and, fully dressed, sped out of there like a bullet shot through a gun.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Preface: _

_For those of you who feel I should change the category for this fic, all I can say is that although it's a balance between Stefan and Damon NOW, it won't always be that way. I did not post in this category to 'get reviews'. I did not add that last chapter to piss DE shippers off. I address any and all smut as honestly and fully as I can, regardless of who that smut revolves around. _

_Also, to howls of "OOC Elena!" I will say this: Elena is out of character because she's not exactly herself any more. Where before, she was a human girl, now she's a predator. Her senses are different. Her emotions are different. Her memories are different. She's GONNA BE DIFFERENT! I hate how she's up on a pedestal all the time, and that all her mistakes come from unselfish motives. I have never met a completely unselfish teenager. Ever. It's unrealistic to assume she's never going to make colossal mistakes in judgement. I could have just had her kill somebody, but hey, you know that's been done. _

_That said, I'll not be approving any more guest reviews to post. I'll read them privately and take the criticisms to heart, but know this: Your opinions are valid to be public when, and only when, you actually put some of your identity behind them. They're pen names for a reason. It's not like I can use them to find out where you live. I can take constructive criticism but I hate when I have no way to engage in meaningful dialogue with those who wish to give it, to discuss my reasoning and become a better writer. Even the bad stuff has a purpose. There is no perseverance without conflict. _

_So, yes, although you anonymous guests have been heard and your criticisms have been weighed and mulled over (and over and over again, to the point of nearly making me want to quit) I've decided to continue this story exactly the way I had intended. I want Elena to get together with Damon just as much as the next fangirl, and if I quit now, it won't happen. No one wants that, least of all me._

_Those of you who have reviewed positively, both signed and anonymously, I can only say thank you so much. You guys are the wind beneath my wings. Seriously. Uplifting, the lot of you!_

_So without further ado, on to the show:_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(E/D)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was either curl up on the bed and die, or throw on some clothing and try to _do_ something about the way Stefan left. She found her fingers dialing Damon's number on the landline phone before her brain could catch up with her. _Worse than Katherine_, her thoughts resounded in her head. Over and over again, while his phone rang.

"Elena," Damon's voice was a blessing and a curse. "What's the deal? I only left a half an hour ago." He sounded like he was forcing himself to be humorous, while inside his emotions were in turmoil. She was momentarily surprised he knew it was her on the landline, but quickly came to the realization that every one else had a cell phone. Who else would it be?

"Stefan left."

"He _what_?" Anger, disbelief, and possibly a little _re_lief. That was all she could read from his two-word exclamation over the phone.

"He left and I don't know where he's gone. He's not in a good place right now. I'm afraid he might hurt someone," she babbled, while her thoughts spun with the idea that she might have pushed Stefan back over the edge, all by her lonesome.

"He left you there. Alone." His tone bore no question, only hinted at grave harm coming to somebody, (most likely herself) soon.

"Yes, but that's not…"

"I'll be right there," he growled shortly.

"Damon-"

"Don't hang up." His tone softened only slightly, sounded concerned while simultaneously full of affection. That wouldn't last long, she was sure. The sudden onset of white noise made her put the phone away from her head to save her hearing, and she knew he must have been running. She also knew he probably wouldn't hear her if she tried to tell him what happened while he ran. She'd just have to face him when he got there. Feeling like the lowest of the low, she figured she deserved whatever hellish punishment that he would come up with. Better to get it over with sooner than later, so they could make sure Stefan didn't kill anyone in the meantime. That was, if her head was still attached to her body.

Once again, although it felt that the world was tilted on its axis wrong, his arms around her set things to rights. She relished in the feeling for a few seconds before reluctantly pulling back. She didn't deserve his comfort. He pulled a frown but let her slip away. Aware that keeping things under wraps had done nothing but harm when it came to Stefan, she blurted out what she'd done before he could ask. "I slept with him, Damon."

He blinked once, and his face got blank. Really blank.

"I slept with him and it wasn't… bad. Wasn't even mediocre." She had no clue why she was giving him any details at all. He almost assuredly didn't want to hear any of them, and they would only make things worse. "But then I couldn't bear lying and it came out about us and then he… he left. I'm so worried he's going to go hurt somebody. He hasn't been on the wagon that long."

"Don't worry, Elena, he won't." His lips were tight, his words clipped. His eyes blazed with blue fire.

"I get that you're mad at me Damon, I do, but we can't just leave him out there to start ripping again…" she paced, working up a froth of panic. "You can take out that anger on me all you like, but please help me fix this first, before somebody dies…" She was shaking badly, like she would rattle clear apart.

"I'm not angry at _you_, Elena," he exclaimed in consternation, doing his level best not to scream. He needed to calm her down and losing his cool wouldn't help with that.

She froze mid-pace and turned, her lashes fluttering as she blinked in astonishment. "You're… not? Then why are you acting like you could kill somebody right now?"

"Because I'm pissed at HIM. He left you here alone, Elena, with the Council knowing about us and your control being shaky at best. He put your life in danger again because that's what Stefan does. He throws your safety over for whatever else is handy. All because his _feelings_ are hurt."

"I'm confused. I just told you I slept with your brother _hours _after what happened between us and you're okay with it?"

"Elena, you made a mistake. One I practically pushed you into, now that I think about it. I don't know what I was thinking…" He paced to the window, almost drew aside the blinds so he could stare out thoughtfully. He remembered the sun and stayed his hand, curling the fingers and cursing himself inwardly for forgetting, even for a second that the sun meant death to Elena. Instead, he headed to the fireplace and sent his gaze to mingle with the flames, before he continued speaking. "Maybe I was thinking that you were still the old Elena, miss 'can do no wrong'. Maybe that you'd have a better handle on your emotions than a normal baby vampire. Whatever I was thinking, the possibility was there, and I'm not going to say I'm happy about it, but I've done worse. And so has he." He turned and pierced her with his electric gaze, willing her to trust in his sincerity. "What I'm furious about is the idea that you could have gone into the sun or eaten the mailman, but of course he didn't think to care about that when he took off," he fumed.

She still stared at him wide-eyed, disbelieving. "So... you forgive me?"

He sighed and shook his head ruefully. After everything he'd done, all the ways he'd hurt her and tormented her, the trust he'd thrown away and had to gain back, painfully at times, he could at the very least give her that. "If it's my forgiveness you want, you've got it."

"I… I don't know what to say. How can you be so… so..."

"Magnanimous?"

"I was going to say… not… possessive. Unselfish. Something along those lines," she said, a look of wary skepticism replacing the utter panic. But, yay! Progress. "I'm so ashamed of myself for what I did. I can't figure out why you aren't, too, or at the very least, furious at me for going bed hopping."

"Look," he said softly, "I get it. Stefan is a part of you. I _told_ you to go wait on his bed. What was he supposed to think or do? I'd be kidding myself expecting you two to just have a long talk and a nice, warm handshake. I knew what I was doing." He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it, looking vulnerable and dangerous all at once. "It's 'always gonna be Stefan' has been your mantra for so long now, I guess I just got used to the idea. When you said you were choosing me, I suppose I might have panicked. I threw you right back at him because I couldn't deal." He gave a shrug, as if it didn't kill him to think of her in bed with his brother. "All you did was live down to my expectations. At least I wasn't the one to get the sloppy seconds."

"Damon, what the hell," she gaped, flabbergasted at the low blow.

He closed the distance between them again, crowding her personal space like he used to, toying with her and flirting with his eyes. "Oh, come on, like I'm going to let you have all the fun, beating up on yourself," he said, tweaking her nose. "It's a rare thing that I'm not seen as the screw up around here. I was being the bigger man and all."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, it's not working." She crossed her arms defensively.

"Hey," Damon shrugged. "You're determined to feel down on yourself. I'm just here to help."

She shook her head. In his roundabout way, he'd put his finger on the issue exactly. Feeling sorry for herself was a waste of emotional and mental resources better put to solving the problem she'd caused. Having him there made the world of difference. Suddenly the mountain of bad was only a small foothill. She felt like she could get to working on repairing her damage and actually make headway. "So what are we going to do about Stefan?"

"Nothing. If I know my brother, and trust me, I've made a hobby of getting to know his habits as a part of my mission to make his un-life a living hell, he'll be brooding somewhere significant to whatever is on his mind. My bet is the bridge. That'll be where it all went wrong."

"You mean when he saved me, almost killed me, or when he let me die?"

"All of the above," he replied softly. "In saving you, he set himself up for heartbreak. In almost killing you as part of his little revenge scenario, he drove you away, toward me. In letting you die, he completed the chain of events leading up to your transformation and utterly destroying the human Elena, leaving him with Katherine _mark two_. That is, unless I miss my guess."

"Not _mark two_. Worse. I slept with him within hours of you." Apparently, she wasn't done with beating herself up quite yet.

"And you think Katherine didn't? She'd have me for breakfast, Stefan for lunch, and decide which brother was dinner over tea. I thought he knew the arrangement as surely as I did, but then again, he's always been the king of denial when it suited him." Unable to stand her self-pity any longer, Damon grabbed her by the arm and swung her back into his arms.

"I still smell like him," she protested weakly.

"And you still have my blood in you." He held her tightly and her protests swiftly died. He pressed his face into her hair, which surprisingly didn't smell that much like his brother. Instead, it still smelled like his shampoo. "I can feel how eaten up you are. Don't ask me how, just know that I can. I love you, Elena, and though I wish it weren't the case, I know how much you love him and how much you hate yourself for what you did. That's worth more to me than any apology, which you haven't given, but I know you're sorry all the same. So don't do anything _stupid. _I can't lose you twice. That would be the only thing I couldn't forgive."

He thought she was going to kill herself? "Really, I hadn't even thought about it." No, she'd been too worried over what _Stefan_ would do to consider walking out into the daylight and putting an end to it all, though she knew that in the end, it wouldn't happen.

"_Yet_. No, instead you called me. That's the smartest thing you've done all week." He raised his head and managed to smile down at her. "Look, if it makes you feel better, once it gets dark, we can go out and look for him."

"I know you don't want to leave me alone right now, because of the council and because of my shaky control, but I really don't think I should be going to look for him. I know he doesn't want to see me. At all. You'd have better luck finding him if I didn't tag along and slow you down."

"I'm not leaving you here alone, Elena. End of discussion."

"Damon, think about it. If they come to burn the place down, I can just run. It'll be night and they won't be able to catch me and trap me here. There's plenty of blood in the basement if I get hungry, and if it makes you happy, I'll have a bag before you go."

"No."

"I'll have two. You can supervise," she pled. "I don't want anyone dying over this."

"Call your brother. Get him to come here and if you don't try to rip into his throat, I'll consider it."

"His shift doesn't end at the Grill until six."

"Call him anyway. Plan ahead."

God! She hated when he got all caveman-like, but she had to admit he had a point. If she wasn't so worried about Stefan, she'd probably have thought of it, herself. It was the best possible way to test her control without actually killing anyone, at least not permanently, and her best chance to maintain said control, because she'd never want to hurt her brother. "Ok. You win."

He handed over his cell phone, as if the land line wasn't good enough. He'd already scrolled his list of contacts, found Jeremy's number, and pressed 'send.' It was ringing when she pressed it to her ear.

"What's up, Damon?" Her brother didn't sound hostile in the least. _Odd,_ she mused. Jeremy liked Damon, or at least didn't hate him for his part in compelling him. Twice.

"Jer, it's me. My phone died at the bottom of the lake, so I'm using Damon's."

"Elena! It's good to hear your voice."

"Yours, too, Jer. Listen, can you come to the Boarding House after your shift?"

"Didn't Stefan talk to you?"

"Umm… about what, exactly?" She went cold at the thought that Stefan might have needed to tell her something and she'd screwed up spectacularly enough to make him forget.

"I told him to get everyone together at the lake house tonight. The Boarding House isn't the best place for our meetings any more, not with the Council knowing about the Salvatores. The Lockwoods and the Forbses are also likewise out. I figured even if they did know about you, they wouldn't know about the lake house. Bonnie's going to meet us there so we can get you your ring."

"That's great, Jer! But, umm, do you think you can swing by here first, before you go? I need to convince Damon of something so… I'd rather not do it there, with everyone around. Think of it as a dry run before I'm allowed near civilized society."

"Oh, I see. So I'm supposed to be your test subject?"

"Uh… yeah. Sorry."

"No worries. Makes a lot of sense, actually. I'll be over as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Jer. It means a lot."

"Hey, don't sweat it."

"I love you," She burst out, because She needed to say it, didn't say it often enough.

"Love you, too."

With nothing more to be said, they hung up. Damon took his phone back and slid it deep into his back pocket. "Just because I want to be sure doesn't mean I'm up for tempting fate. You're going to have a blood bag before he gets here. I don't want you getting peckish and decide to have yourself a little snack while I'm out hunting down Stefan dearest."

"Ok." There was nothing of protest in her tone.

"Just so we're clear."

"I get it. You're the boss of me," she threw up her hands and spun away in a huff.

"Now when you say it like that, I almost believe it." he drawled, prowling around her and grabbing her arms, as if he wanted to shake her, but all he did was hold her there and look all over her face for signs of a lie. "But I _know _you, Elena. You might think I don't see something churning in that brain of yours. I just got here, so why do you want to get rid of me all of a sudden?"

"I'm worried for the innocent people of Mystic Falls. I used to be able to get Stefan to calm down, but I'm the problem this time, so it's up to you to make sure he's not off the rails."

"Uh-huh. So this isn't some ploy to get me out of the way so you can enact your newest in a long line of suicide schemes?"

Although he would've hit perilously close to the mark, if she hadn't been so consumed by her worry about Stefan's behavior, she might have had to lie. As it was, Katherine was the furthest thing from her mind when she reassured him. "Damon, trust me. There's nothing more to it than that. I hate the idea that he's out there, hurting people because of me." He just kept on looking and looking, but eventually had to give a satisfied nod.

"Ok. We're doing this, but we're doing it _my way. _I'm calling Caroline to keep you company while you wait for Jeremy and run interference when he gets here, in case you lose control. She's not much older than you, but she's given _me_ a run for my money, so I know she'll be able to handle you. She'll keep you from doing irreparable harm to your brother. Since I can't lock you in the dungeon pending my return, no matter how attractive that thought is, I'm going to need _both _Caroline and Jeremy, once he gets here, to text me every hour to let me know things are all right. While I'm out, I'll be picking you up a burner phone." He led her into the library by the small of her back, pushing her right along as if she'd forgotten how to walk. "Until then, you're going to sit here on this couch while I whip you up something to eat downstairs." He went to one of the myriad bookshelves lining the wall, selected a volume, and tossed it at her. "Here. To pass the time." She caught it, looked at the title, and made a face.

"_The Great Gatsby_? Are you trying to put me to sleep?"

"Don't knock it. It's a classic. Or, if you prefer something a bit more contemporary, try this." He tossed another volume her way, which she picked out of the air without realizing how neatly she'd done it.

"Harry Potter? I read this when I was nine."

"Would you prefer Anne Rice? _Please_ tell me you're not a _Twilight_ fan."

"Nope and Nope. I'd honestly rather journal, if it's all the same to you."

"All right, fine." He picked out another slim volume and sent it her direction. "Christmas present from Stefan. He tried to get me to use it. I only wrote one entry before losing interest. Feel free to fill the blank pages to your heart's content."

Intensely interested in what he had to say, she slammed open the cover and got to reading at once. Satisfied he had her sufficiently focused, he went to the basement to prepare her bloody snack. He knew she wouldn't be able to resist reading the thing. While the microwave hummed to life, he called Caroline's cell phone and went about securing Elena's baby sitter for the rest of the evening. She sounded a little put-off, but in the end relented when he warned that Elena might bite somebody if she wasn't watched. He neglected to mention that Elena couldn't leave the house while the sun was still in the sky, and Caroline didn't seem to remember that tidbit. He'd also neglected to mention to Elena that Caroline was his insurance that she wouldn't leave the house before he got back, if searching for Stefan took long enough for the sun to go down. He couldn't imagine it would take him _five hours_ to track his brother's whereabouts, should he not be at any of the usual broody spots, but he wanted the extra padding if it did. Then he'd be able to engineer a window when Elena thought she wasn't being watched so he could set up a safe distance from the tomb and keep an eye on her while she had her meeting with Katherine. Either she'd learned to be a better liar than he gave her credit for, or she was just too preoccupied to remember that she _should_ be lying. If he hadn't heard it for himself, he would have believed she wasn't going to try to sneak off.

Oh, he'd heard them, all right, while he feigned sleep. Katherine's laugh could wake him from death, as it usually meant that all hell was about to break loose. The news that Klaus still lived was a gigantic shock to his system, and he wanted to use that fact to keep Elena from ever being alone, but he couldn't let on he knew _that_ while also letting her think he was unaware that she would sneak out that night. He was intrigued by the possibilities of being able to use the blood of their line to keep tabs on everyone, Klaus and Katherine at the top of the list. Katherine was a resourceful ally, but a damned dangerous enemy, and he'd had to deal with her in both capacities. But if she was willing to teach Elena some of what made her so crafty, he would't mind getting in on the lesson. If she was instead going to stab Elena in the back, he was damned sure going to be close by enough to _do _something about it. Klaus was somebody he _needed_ to keep tabs on, for obvious reasons. He'd been trying to get things set up for reconnaissance and surveillance when he was prematurely called back to the boarding house. Couldn't his brother do _anything_ right? All he had to do was keep an eye on Elena for a couple of hours, but instead he decided to maul her first and ask questions later, although if he were honest with himself, he probably would have done the same in his place. What he _would not_ have done, _ever,_ was storm out in a huff at the first sign that Elena wasn't a nun. All it took was a little bruised ego to get Stefan running for the hills. As setbacks went, though, returning to the boarding house ahead of schedule wasn't _too _bad. He'd already picked up Elena's burner phone. It was waiting in the car. He'd use it as an excuse to show up unannounced and get a little Elena time when he finished his preparations. That would in all likelihood be the 'window' he'd give Elena, while he pretended to go out looking for Stefan again. Provided she didn't try to eat her brother, he'd leave them alone together. Then, she'd bolt. Baby Gilbert would call him, and he'd let him know he was monitoring her and not to worry. Finding Stefan would be easy. Setting up monitoring devices while keeping Katherine unaware of them wouldn't. Convincing Stefan he was being a dick would be near-impossible, but he'd give it a shot. Maybe not his best shot, as he _would_ prefer not having to share Elena for a bit.

In all honesty, it did bother him a little, but his bedposts were so full of notches as to be fit only for kindling that he'd be a gigantic hypocrite if he cried foul over her single indiscretion. The same night he'd told her he loved her to her face without compelling her to forget it, he'd slept with Rebbeckah. Not one of his finer moments. Pretty much every lady he'd been with since meeting her had been a jab at Elena, consciously or subconsciously. In the end, no matter why he started the relationship to begin with, he always ended up caring about them. Even Rebbeckah, although he'd stake the bitch as soon as look at her, now.

Elena hadn't acted with malicious intent. She honestly loved both of them and who could blame her for physically expressing that love? So what if she'd slept with his brother? Damon had slept with her best friend, mother, and hundred-times-great grandmother, in reverse order. Ditto on the great-g-mama for Stefan. Both of them had no room to judge her on that front. He was really hoping this would put them on even keel when she finally remembered about that. No, the biggest benefit to not freaking out on her and pulling a Stefan was that for once, he got to be the better man. He got to be the good guy in her estimation, and that was worth more than anything else to him. All it took to keep the green eyed monster at bay was caring more about her than himself, which he'd _been_ doing for a long while, now.

The microwave beeped, shunting him out of his reverie. He tested the blood and deemed it close enough to body temperature. Warm blood was something Elena hadn't experienced yet, and he was itching to have her try it, just to catch her reaction. When he returned with it, Elena was scrawling away at the blank pages in his abandoned journal. She smiled up at him briefly and took the glass in hand before becoming fully engrossed in her writing once again. She sipped at the blood idly, humming in appreciation as if it were nothing more than hot chocolate, but paid it no more mind than that. Damon shook his head in amusement. Either she was so hyper-focused in her writing that her instincts were locked back tight, or she really wasn't that hungry. Not wanting to disturb her, he instead picked up _The Great Gatsby _and settled into his favorite armchair to await the changing of the guards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(TBC)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_A/N: Hmm, so there we have it. Damon's got plots and plans a-brewing. He's in it to win it and he knows how to play for the long haul. Finally, we start to see a light at the end of the tunnel! Elena won't know what hit her._

_Upcoming stuff: Caroline and Elena have a girl chat. Caroline flips her wig. Damon and Stefan have a brotherly heart-to-heart. Fangs are bared. Jeremy is prepared to take one for the team. Can Elena's control hold out? Gearing up for the midnight rendezvous with Kat. So much to do before then!_

_I do hope I've won some of you over (if there really were multiple guests insisting that I change the category, and you weren't the same person, which I doubt.) I mean it, this is a D/E story with some unfortunate S/E to add conflict. So bear with me. I hate giving this crap away, but if it'll make you happy, I'll tell you the ending: Damon gets Elena. I will pair the rest of them up however the hell I choose and you will LIKE IT! (Ha ha, just kidding. I gotta have a sense of humor about these things, otherwise I stop having fun doing this and have no reason to write any more.)_

_I'm always listening. And to those of you who have written with your support and love, I am so grateful to you! You have no idea. I would send you snuggles through the Internet if I could._

_Might be a bit before I update again. Work and funerals. (Sigh). Hope you all have a lovely day…. and WOOHOO! Season 4! Who's with me?! _


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Preface: Aww, look at all you beautiful people; you make my heart smile! Thanks so much for your love and support. Whenever I'm feeling down on myself, you guys manage to perk my sorry butt right up. Honorable mentions: emmera01, jaceyb1, HeailingHearts, lizzybennettdarcy, , T.J. Wise, and lulu jay, you have no idea how much I was dreading the hell that would rain down upon me. You guys blindsided me with so much love, I actually started to cry a little._

_I'll try not to take up any more of your time, but I felt I had to thank you lovely doves for being such awesome sports. Thanks for sticking with me through the bad stuff and giving me the benefit of the doubt, so I could return to the path of righteousness… err, yeah I don't know where I was going with that one… anyways, I'll go shut up now so the story can continue._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(E/C)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caroline blew in like the stiff wind before a rainstorm. She didn't bother to knock, only located Elena and plopped herself down on the couch right beside her. "I'm here, Damon. You can go do whatever you decided was important enough to drag me away from Matt's bedside," she said, shooting him a 'piss off' look.

"Great. Make yourself at home," he countered, indicating Elena's abandoned glass of blood. It had chilled back to room temperature, but he saw no sense in wasting it. He stood leisurely, gave Elena one last lingering look. Elena had stopped writing the instant she felt the couch dip beside her and rejoined the rest of the world. Damon's eyes caught and held hers and she managed a tight but real smile. They said nothing, only shared that moment, before he was strolling casually out the door.

_"What was that all about?" _Caroline whispered, hoping Damon had gotten far enough away so he wouldn't hear her.

"Nothing…" Elena said defensively. "He was just saying goodbye."

"By eye-humping you across the room?"

"Just leave it, Care," Elena sighed, massaging her temples. She was _so _not up for another round of her friends badmouthing Damon. Not after the day she'd been having. She needed to feel somewhat normal again, and having Caroline there would help, but not if it was 'Catty Caroline.' She needed 'Compassionate Caroline.' "So, how was Matt?"

Caroline relented, allowing Elena to lure her into a change of topic. "Fine. He'll be able to go home in a day or so."

"And how are you doing?"

Caroline tilted her head to the side, considering. "I'll be ok. I really fell apart there for a bit, but Stefan let me cry it out and then took me to go see Matt at the hospital. I never thought I would feel ok again, but I'm healing. A big part of that is because of Stefan, but the biggest part is Matt."

"Really? Why because of Matt?" Elena wasn't ready to talk about Stefan just yet.

"He still loves me, Elena, and I'm pretty sure I still love him."

Elena had to try her hardest to bite her tongue. Katherine had told her that Klaus was alive, and her brain finally made the jump to the conclusion that Tyler might be, too. Why he hadn't bothered to make anyone aware of that fact, if he was, was beyond her understanding, but she was sure he must have had a good reason. She hoped he wasn't in any real trouble, because holding her peace would only mean that help may come too late to him. All at once, she remembered where she was supposed to be at midnight, and her heart gave a little lurch when she realized she'd have to betray Damon's trust. Again. She was relatively sure Katherine wouldn't want her presence in Mystic Falls bandied about, but more than that, she didn't want anyone to try to stop her when she finally made her move to go to the tomb. If Caroline knew she'd spoken to Katherine, it was only a matter of time before Damon got wind of what they had planned. Instead, she gave her friend a strained smile. "I'm glad for you guys. If you're happy, I'm happy."

"Yeah. I think we can be. At least it's not all bad news."

They each sat in pained silence, their focus turning inward. Caroline's was firmly on her loss. Elena's was on the misery she'd caused herself and those around her for the crime of being born. They'd lost too many people, and she'd just managed to push away one of those who were still sticking around for the bloodbath her life had become, one who had come to mean so much to her. She just couldn't figure out what the hell had happened upstairs. He'd looked at her the way he used to and kissed her with so much of the love that had been missing for so long that her brain had short-circuited. It was the only way she could describe what she'd been feeling at the time. There _was_ no thinking at that point, only pure emotion, and her emotions were apparently idiots. She couldn't afford to alienate _anyone_, least of all Stefan. In retrospect, she had to admit that it was his demeanor which had tempted her to wildness. Things had been strained between them ever since he'd gone away with Klaus to get his brother's cure. In that moment, he had been the Stefan who insisted on having a 'normal' day, without supernatural interference. He had been the Stefan who joined the football team. He'd been the carefree Stefan, not the one eaten alive by guilt. She knew it was a rare thing with so much fresh death on his conscience. Damon wasn't wrong when he called Stefan Mr. Broody.

But that was the thing. Stefan _deserved_ to brood over what he had done. He'd ruined more lives than just the ones he took. The families of the deceased, who entered into the morgues to identify the bodies that hadn't been buried or burned would have to live with the memory of seeing the dead, dismembered corpses of his victims. She would never, _could_ never have loved a man who was able to shrug that off so quickly. If his well-deserved attacks of conscience made him a Debbie Downer at all the parties, well, so be it. How could she have forgotten so soon what he'd done? How could she have forgiven it? Yes, Damon had killed people, people she knew, but _Stefan_… Stefan had been a real monster. When Damon lashed out, he at least left pretty corpses in his wake, and often those pretty corpses got back up after.

She honestly never thought she could come to terms with what a monster Damon had been when he had first arrived to town. Death had been his constant companion, heartache following in his wake. But something had changed in him, and she saw glimpses of a man who maybe, had he not been a predator and a killer, she could come to love. When she'd been human, all that death had scared her. Now… now she knew death as an intimate friend, both from experiencing the loss of her friends and family, and from dying herself. In the truck, it had been a cold embrace, but a welcome one, heralding the end of suffering. In Klaus's ritual, she had gone to death with both eyes open, not knowing if there would be a tomorrow for her, but willing to do so all the same. There had been no other choice. Would she, too, be able to deliver others to that embrace without losing herself in it? Accidents happened all the time. If she was badly injured, to the point where she absolutely needed to feed and her instincts took her over, she could very well kill someone before her brain caught up again. What Damon had shown her would be a big help, but only if she fed on purpose, not as a last resort. It was about choice, control, and acceptance of the act. Stefan would never choose, willingly, to feed on a human being, not without his switch flipped off. He would always fight his nature, and his nature would take him into realms of brutality darker than any Damon would ever allow himself to go. That was it, though. She couldn't remember any news of dismembered corpses once he'd gotten back to town with orders to 'protect her.' When Klaus compelled him to switch it off, he'd fed, obviously, but no bodies were found matching his M.O. Maybe he got better about hiding the bodies, but she didn't think so. No, she hypothesized that when he felt no emotions, no need to fight his nature, he fed like a normal vampire would. Maybe his humanity was what made him the Ripper; that fighting his nature for so long made his eventual surrender to it so violent, so brutal. His remorse made him put the corpses back together again. Maybe Klaus was right, maybe he _had_ fixed him. It was his humanity that made him _especially_ monstrous. She never wanted to become that. She knew she could, because she cared too much.

It was always about choice. If she chose to feed on a human being, if she took control of that, she could control the rest as well. She just didn't know if she could _willingly_ inflict pain on someone. Stefan had taken her blood at her own request, and she had always cut herself, rather than letting his fangs enter into the equation. She had known that he didn't wish to hurt her. Until Klaus had ordered him to, and he did not disappoint his _master._ He had terrified her, hunted her, and pierced her skin with fangs razor-sharp and no mercy whatsoever. He had no mercy in him to give, at the time. Damon had bitten her only once while she was human, while suffering from the werewolf bite that had nearly taken him from them-the cure for which _had_ taken Stefan from them, instead. He had been so out of his head that whatever he might have done to mitigate the pain wasn't possible. She just didn't know if it was possible without compelling a human, first, to feel no pain.

Being a vampire, living through death and healing one cell at a time made her look at pain a little differently. All sensation was heightened, even that of touch, and pain could be excruciating because of it. But still, it was a different feeling. When it was all _so much_, the good and the bad, it all started to blur, to feel a little like too much of one could become the other. She'd experienced pleasure so exquisite that it hurt, and the pain of Damon's fangs sliding into her skin had felt… well, it hadn't felt bad. It had felt like just another penetration. Intense… personal. Really, _really_ good, if she were being perfectly honest with herself.

"Woah, Elena, your face," Caroline breathed, breaking Elena out of her intense introspection. "You should have told me you were hungry. Here." She handed over the now-chilled cup of blood without preamble.

"Thanks, Care, I guess I am hungry, though I fed earlier on in the day. I still haven't gotten the rhythm down." Elena was intensely grateful that her friend had made an assumption, and that vampires didn't blush. She'd felt the skin go tight around her eyes and the pulsation behind them as blood rushed in, sharpening her eyesight exponentially. Her heartbeat had quickened, gearing up for action, but none of this had happened because of thirst. It was a different sort of hunger, and she'd always wondered whether Stefan's face changed when he kissed her because she registered as a source of food, or because it was possible that he was turned on. Now she knew it could be either. Or both. Food and sex went hand-in-hand with Damon. Maybe it was just a vampire thing.

"Is that your new diary?" Caroline asked as Elena gulped down the blood to hide where her thoughts had gone.

"It's new to me," Elena shrugged. "Used to belong to Damon. He wrote one entry."

"Really, now?" Caroline perked up and leaned forward, excited at the chance to gossip. "What does the Dark Prince have to say for himself?"

"Well, it looks like this entry was written some time right before they were turned. All flowery prose and meanings within meanings. He tried to keep the idea of vampirism hidden within metaphors…"

"Come _on, _Elena. Let me see!" Caroline grabbed for the book, and Elena held it far out of the blonde's reach. Caroline _blurred_ and Elena caught the intention before she'd executed it, and soon they were on opposite sides of the couch. Caroline grinned, her eyes twinkling. "You can't keep it away forever, Elena. I might be young but I'm older than you," she warned.

"I guess we'll just have to see who wants it more," Elena taunted back, really getting excited about the game. She hadn't had time to properly get used to her abilities yet, and playing keep-away with her friend seemed like an excellent way to do it. It broke up the monotony of staying inside all day, and she was ready to jump at the chance for any distractions from her present misery.

Without warning, Caroline lunged over the couch. Elena sped back into the hallway, Caroline not giving a second of space between them. Avoiding patches of sunlight like lava, Elena led a merry chase through the boarding house. She'd spent enough time there to know the territory well, an advantage over Caroline she didn't hesitate to exploit. Caroline _was_ slightly faster, though, and Elena had to use all her wits to make up for the discrepancy. She kept mostly to the first and second floors, not wanting to get cornered in the cellar, where there was only one way out.

Somehow, they ended up in Damon's bedroom, and that's where things went all to hell.

Caroline stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the room and sniffed the air, a puzzled frown marring her pretty features. Elena's eyes went wide and she clutched the diary protectively to her chest as it dawned on her that she'd made an error in judgement. A massive one. Caroline's eyes swept over the rumpled covers on the bed, the tattered remnants of clothing strewn here and there, finally landing on Elena's guilty stance. _Why couldn't he have cleaned up in here? Why didn't I?_ Elena thought with a bit of panic.

"WHAT did you DO?" Caroline shouted, her eyes shooting accusing daggers, piercing Elena to the core.

"Care, I…" Elena stammered, blindsided by her reaction. Well, not really. She might have seen it coming if she'd thought for _one second_ about how Caroline would take the news.

"You slept with him?!"

"I can explain…"

"You… what about your epic love, Elena? How could you do this to Stefan?"

"I know you're mad at me… I know you care about Stefan and think he's the best for me and want us to be happy ever after…"

"Elena, how could you?" Caroline said softly, her voice breaking with sorrow.

Elena bit her lip, looking down at the floor, and heaved a heavy sigh. "It gets worse. Can you come downstairs and talk with me? I need you to just hear me out. You can judge me all you like, but I really need a friend to talk to."

The sting of betrayal still evident in her expression, Caroline nodded, whirled, and stomped out. Elena followed behind, clutching the diary to her breast with her head hung low.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(D/K/S)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stefan wasn't hard to find. After visiting the bridge, he'd gone to take his brooding to the tomb, along with a bottle of one of Damon's finest vintage bourbon. Damon tracked him easily, shaking his head at how awful his brother was at covering his tracks through the woods. He watched his brother sit on the ground and gulp at the bottle while tears fell from his eyes. He hated to see him that way, but he wasn't quite sure after a hundred and forty years how to cheer his brother up when he was crying. He'd spent the lion's share of that time either avoiding or antagonizing him. Damon had no clue where to even begin helping him heal his broken heart, but he'd give his best shot to at least start him on the path, even if it meant that he'd once again look the asshole.

He was just about to swagger in and make his presence known with a pithy comment when he was forestalled by a hand on his shoulder, holding him back with a strength he could not escape from. He was greeted with a visage he'd just left at the boarding house, but he could never again mistake Katherine for Elena. She held a single, lacquered digit to her lips, commanding quiet, and he was once again astounded by how many steps ahead of the curve she'd always managed to be.

He nodded once, and she released his person before stepping out from between the trees, into the clearing.

"Katherine," Stefan wheezed, swigging from the bottle, "fancy seeing you here. Please tell me you're not going to try to win me back. I'm not sure if my sanity can take it."

"Drinking during the daytime," she tutted, going to stand before him with her hands on her hips. "Come, Stefan. I know your father taught you better."

"Perhaps he did. But I _killed_ my father, so…" he trailed off and swigged again to indicate the matter closed.

"Hmm. You seem down." She surveyed the ground for a moment, looking for a cleaner spot to set her perfect, poured-on jean-clad derrière down before settling on a patch of long, flattened grass. "Wanna talk about it?"

"With you?" He glared sideways out of the corner if his eye before staring off into the distance once more with a dismissive air. "Don't make me laugh. I have nothing to say to you."

"That bad, huh? Well who are you going to talk to about it? It's obvious you need to. You've got 'I have something to say' written all over your face. I'm betting you don't want to talk to Elena about it, or Damon. No, judging by what I saw at the boarding house, it's about the two of them, isn't it?"

He gave her another narrow-eyed glance, saying nothing.

"I take it you walked in on them?"

"God, no. Thankfully I was spared that travesty," he spit out before he could think about it.

"Did Damon rub it in your face?"

"No."

"Ok, so tell me what happened. I'm tired of trying to guess."

"I told you, I'm not in a sharing kind of mood," he muttered dismissively, and took another drink.

"Fair enough," she shrugged, crossed her ankles, and sat beside him in silence. When he paused in his drinking, she held her hand out for the bottle. He shrugged in return and handed it over, and she drank from the neck like a champ. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, the bottle dangling from her perfectly manicured fingers. They passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty, or near enough. Damon rolled his eyes. He had better things to do than watch the two of them get drunk on his best vintage. Still, he stayed, a little curious about what exactly Katherine thought she could do about Stefan. He'd never really seen her get drunk and he was betting she was the type to get chatty, or goofy, like Elena.

With slurred speech, as if he'd just thought of it for the first time, Stefan asked her, "What were you doing at the boarding house this morning, any way?" He still wouldn't look at her.

She tilted her head to the side, allowing the alcohol to help her relax, and finally decided to answer him. "I was there to pass along a warning to someone."

"Anyone in particular, or were you just going to drop one of your vague hints to anyone who would listen?"

"I found who I was looking for," she confirmed without giving anything else away. "I suppose you should hear it, too. Klaus isn't dead," she explained without preamble. "I suspect there was some sort of witchy intercession with his ultimate fate."

"Damn," Stefan muttered, unable to work up a proper amount of anger at the news. He didn't for one moment question the fact that Katherine knew exactly what she was talking about. You didn't run from someone for half a millennium just to sing 'Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead' at the first rumor of their passing.

"No," she drawled, as if explaining something to a child, "That's a good thing. He _is_ the father of our bloodline."

"Oh. Well that's just great. All I have to do is find him, then, and kill him, and it'll all be over," he murmured lightly. It sounded forced to Damon's trained ears.

Katherine peered at him from over her shoulder, tossing her hair in an impressive display of unconcern, even though Stefan had just confessed to wishing to kill them all, herself included. "Stefan, love, you never struck me as the suicidal type. What in the world has brought you to this?"

He sighed and shook his head, casting aside any plan of ending it all as easily as deciding not to wear a certain sweater that day. "What else? It's always about love… and loss."

"I've known you as long as anyone has, or close enough to make no difference. You know you can talk to me about anything. Treat me as if I were Lexi. I'll listen and then give you advice, you'll argue, and we'll hug it out," she offered, making it sound like the simplest thing in the world. That she was offering to be his confidante, despite always seeming to be concerned only for her own wants and needs was lost on Stefan, half-drunk and morose as he was.

"Lexi…" Stefan sighed. "Damon killed her." Damon had the good grace to wince at his brother's pronouncement. That wound would take forever to heal. He was sorry for what he'd done to Lexi, but at the time it seemed the only way to get the Council off their… his back.

"I know, Stefan, and I'm sorry," she said in a soft voice, one Damon had often heard Elena use when consoling himself. "Let me do this for you. Let me do this for her, because I know she'd want somebody to do it." Damon was more than impressed with Katherine's acting ability. That was something he'd expect Elena to say, because she'd actually cared and understood Lexi. But Katherine… she was too damn cynical to look for the silver lining or honor the wishes of the dead.

Before Damon could blink, Stefan was poring his heart out to her, forgetting all of the pain she'd ever caused him-and the position she'd put them both in-by virtue of the fresher insults to his ego. True to her word, she listened, making appropriate noises as his tale of betrayal went on. When he'd come to the end, with new tear tracts down his face, she tugged him into a sloppy embrace on the ground. She rubbed his back and made soothing noises, and for the first time, Damon actually could believe that she was capable of real love, that she loved Stefan. She _couldn't_ be that good of an actress.

Stefan pulled back from her embrace only slightly. She wiped at his tears with her thumbs, a look of tenderness transforming her normally haughty expression into those that he had come to love, before he'd known what she was. The two fell silent as they stared intently at each other, and subtly began to move closer.

Feeling as if he were intruding on too private a moment, Damon withdrew into the solitude of the trees. He didn't want to have to lie to Elena, and the truth might be too painful for her to bear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(D/E/C)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damon returned to the Boarding house, baffled by what he'd just witnessed. He'd thought that Katherine was out of his system entirely, that she could no longer affect him in any real emotional sense, but seeing her comforting Stefan with all the compassion and caring that she'd lacked in all the time he'd known her felt like a scar reopening. It was true. She'd never loved him. All her love had been reserved solely for his brother.

That _stung._

He felt compelled to return to the one person left standing who would look at him and listen to him like Katherine had done for Stefan. He wanted her soft hands on him, wanted to feel the warmth of her regard in her embrace, in her blood. More than that, he _needed _ it. He needed to see her, to be with her. He also needed to bring her the news that Stefan wasn't off on another ripper bender, that someone who wanted Stefan to keep his humanity as much as they did was with him, comforting him. He didn't know if he'd be able to break it to her that it was Katherine. She had more issues with Katherine than he had with his brother, though not as deep-seated. _Give it a century or two and she'll have subscriptions. Maybe a full-blown complex before it's all said and done._

He snagged the burner phone from the glove compartment in the Camaro and sent out a mass text to the key players in their group, alerting them that it was Elena's new phone. He strode into the boarding house with thoughts tumbling through his head, feeling far more down than he had a right to. Katherine wasn't his to feel jealous over. She never had been. He knew for a fact that Elena loved him, but the thought that she wasn't his alone felt like a weight on his chest, even though he knew it was selfish. He wished with all his might that for once someone would choose him before Stefan. He was tired of being an afterthought.

He felt his wildest urges resurfacing, the ones that led him to kill, to sabotage the relationships he'd been trying so hard to build, to lose himself for a few hours in too much alcohol and a willing-or not so willing-victim. He wanted to feed from the vein, to dance in the moonlight, to set the town on fire, but he restrained himself. Now wasn't the time to go off the reservation. There were bigger, badder things that went bump in the night to contend with. He couldn't wait until he was the most evil thing in town again.

The sound of muted heartbeats led him into the drawing room, where an uncomfortable silence made him pause in the doorway. Elena and Caroline were trapped in a Mexican standoff with looks instead of guns. Neither broke eye contact long enough to register his presence, and both wore stubborn glares that would give a mule a run for its money. Jaws were set, eyes flashed. He was waiting for one of them to break and lunge for the other's throat. As much as he loved a good girl fight, there were other… things… that needed to be addressed. He strode into the fray with his peace offering, half-afraid he might burst into flames the instant he set foot between them. Making a concentrated effort to ignore the tension between them and how uncomfortable it made him to put himself in the middle of it, he held the cellphone out to Elena, keeping his back to Caroline, so she knew he wasn't afraid of anything her little Barbie self could do to him.

"Kinda having a moment here, Damon," Caroline snapped, her Prom Queen mean-girl side coming to the fore, "one for which you weren't invited."

"It's _my_ house, Caroline," he returned, even as Elena murmured a thank you for her new phone, looking ashamed of herself. _Interesting…_ he thought. _Wonder what's made her embarrassed all of a sudden. _

"Yeah, well, you asked me to be here, so unless you want me to _leave,_ I'll be asking for the room back," Blondie bitched right back at him.

"Fine, then. _Leave_. If I can't count on you to keep Elena safe, then go on. Take off."

"Oh, no. I'm not leaving her alone with _you. _You'll just take advantage of her again."

"Is that what she told you?!" he exclaimed, whirling on her. He felt hurt and attacked and oh, so tired of his supposed allies seeing him as the bad guy.

"No, it's not," Elena found her voice at last, coming to her feet to glare around him at Caroline once more.

Caroline jumped to her feet as well, taking up a lecturing stance with her hands on her hips and her blonde curls bouncing in agitation. "Look, you're new, so you wouldn't know how _hard_ it is to fight your urges. I did so many things I never thought I'd ever do, including kill a guy, right at the start. Damon took advantage of you and just now he's trying to get you to drive Stefan away for him!"

"I _love _him, Caroline! Just because I love Stefan doesn't mean it isn't true! I knew what I was doing. I was stupid and thoughtless, but I _wanted_ it. Don't try to turn me into some helpless, innocent child!" Elena shouted right back, and Damon found himself in the unenviable position of acting the barrier between the two of them, so they wouldn't rip one another's throat out.

"Everybody calm the hell down. I came back to tell you that Stefan's ok for the moment. He's being handled." He winced at his turn of phrase, glad he was facing Caroline and not Elena, so she wouldn't catch the tic. "He's not on a murderous rampage. He's talking with an old friend over my finest bottle of bourbon, somebody who wants him to keep his humanity as much as the rest of us. So just chill out so we can figure out what we're going to do about the fact that Klaus is still alive."

"He's _WHAT?" _Caroline screamed, completely forgetting about the elephant in the room in favor of the man-eating tiger.

"I overheard it from a very _reliable _source. Elena still doesn't have her daylight ring and we're sitting ducks in this house until nightfall until she does. So can we please bury the hatchet for the time being? No sense in doing the council's job for them," Damon put forth in his most convincing tone.

Caroline's eyes sparked still with barely-supressed vampire rage, but she nodded, and took a step backward.

"Good. Now, may I _please _have a moment alone with Elena? I have to tell her something… uncomfortable… and I think it would be best if you not hear it in your current mood." She opened her mouth to argue, brows drawn down into raptor's wings, but he interrupted her tirade before it could begin. "Just, take a few laps around the house, check the perimeter, will you?"

She glared at him once more, then shook her head. "Fine. Yell if you need me. I feel the need to kill something. I'll be out hunting rabbits, but I won't be out of earshot, so no funny business." She waited for his terse nod, then sped out of the room with a gust of air parting in her wake.

Elena heaved a sigh, putting fingers to her temples to ward off a headache that wouldn't come. Still, the gesture was deeply ingrained, and would probably follow her throughout an eternity of freedom from such mortal pains. Damon whirled and caught her up in the embrace he'd been fantasizing about since he'd left the tomb, needing to feel her in his arms before some other disaster descended on them to drag his attention away. "I missed you," he murmured into her hair. He let his facade go without a qualm, letting her know exactly how much she meant to him in word as well as deed.

"I missed you, too," she murmured into his chest, then turned her face upward to receive his kiss. A part of him had been a little afraid that she would pull back, would reject him again. Every tender feeling he had toward her went into the kiss, and his gratitude for the gifts she bestowed on him. He knew she didn't owe him anything, although he'd always hoped she'd consent to give him this. He kissed her like a gentleman in love with his lady, never pushing further, though passion simmered between them, begging to break free. He kissed her with every ounce of love he had within him and every bit of need for love in return. She kissed him back with the same love, the same need. She kissed him with her need for reassurance that she hadn't disgusted him, hadn't turned him away from her with her actions earlier on in the day. What began as a tentative, nervous meeting of lips ended with acceptance, trust, and comfort.

When they pulled back through mutual accord, she peered up at him with a gentle smile. "Well, that was the good news. What's the bad?"

Another gust of wind startled them both, and Caroline was once again among them, but the look on her face held nothing of her previous rage. Instead, it held joy and a hope almost too painful to behold. "That means… Tyler's still alive!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(TBC)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_A/N: Ok, so I had this whole knock-down drag-out fight planned for Damon and Stefan, and then Katherine showed up and threw my plans all in a fire, which she danced merrily around until I just couldn't take it anymore. So I consoled myself with a nice moment between Damon and Elena._

_I have two jobs now, and a husband with impeccable timing. Every time, just about, that I sit down ready to write, he distracts me, or completely derails my train of thought… so updates are going to be slow, which I absolutely hate. I will keep slogging through, however, so the story will eventually come to its conclusion, come hell or high water. _

_I love you guys! Just saying that in case I don't enough._


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Forward: _

_So I've been remiss on covering my legal ass, so let's do this right now and we'll just say it's retroactive, mmkay? I don't own the characters or the settings from the Vampire Diaries, nor do I make or intend to make money off this work of fiction inspired by the Vampire Diaries. I only do this for fun, not profit. If I offend, I do sincerely apologize to the writers, stars, fans, and producers of my favorite guilty pleasure of a show. _

_Now, for the thanks duly owed to the lovely readers and reviewers of this story: I LOVE YOU ALL! I would cook you all a nice dinner at my house and talk about the Vampire diaries long into the morning with you if I could. I'm afraid my husband wouldn't take it very well, though, so I'm sending you a mental slice of pie, the flavor of your choice, to express my sincere gratitude for all your lovely words._

_ginbyshin:__ You write English very well, so don't sweat it!_

_fanficsareawesome: __ I love the triangles, if you couldn't tell. Matty's not done with dear Caroline, no matter what _she_ thinks._

_BlellePhoenix__: OOC in which way? I'm hoping I could have some help with this, honestly. I'm writing them as a kind of way to exorcise my own demons left over from teenage girlhood, so if you have any pointers, please PM me._

_DanielWhite: __Don't worry, she'll find out… eventually ;-) My bet's on a guilty confession from Stefan._

_I've taken up enough of your time, so as they say: "On with the show."_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(D/E/C/J)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elena peered at Caroline warily from the circle of Damon's arms. She felt so many things just then: consternation that her private moment with Damon had been interrupted, guilt for not informing Caroline and Damon what very _real_ danger they were all in for being associated with her, hope, for Caroline's sake, that Tyler was still among the living, and lastly, embarrassment at not thinking that her friends could not be trusted with the truth. Katherine had warned her to keep her mouth shut, but since when did she listen to what Katherine said over keeping her friends out of danger?

Caroline just stood there, nearly vibrating with energy as she thought of Tyler out there somewhere, waiting for her, or possibly needing her help. She'd expected more of a reaction out of Elena, at least, more of her own excitement mirrored back in best-friend camaraderie. She remembered the awful things she had said to her in the drawing room, then, and how they had nearly come to blows, and her face fell with the realization that Elena might not be too happy with her just at the moment, or too worried about how she felt seeing Elena in Damon's arms moments after they had just fought about her relationship with him.

For her part, Elena was filled with guilt at not telling her friend the supposed good news sooner. She sighed, then, and decided it was time to come clean. She turned to Damon, first, to confirm her suspicions even as she opened the door to telling them both what she needed to say. "Stefan's with Katherine, isn't he." She said it as a statement, not a question, a weary acceptance in her tone. "That's where you overheard the news. She told him, like she told me."

"When did she tell _you?_" Damon asked, seemingly perplexed while he forced himself not to betray his relief that he didn't have to be the one to tell her. "You've been _here_ all day."

"This morning… after you and I…" she trailed off, glanced at Caroline, cleared her throat and made an uncomfortable gesture. "I got into the shower and the next thing I knew, she was in there with me." She stepped away and crossed her arms over her belly, looking so much like a lost little girl in that moment.

"I would have _paid_ to see that," Damon smirked, putting up a wall of humor to hide how much her pulling away twisted at his gut. She pulled a face, and he could practically hear the phrase, "_don't be an pig," _fighting its way onto her tongue. Caroline rolled her eyes, as if to say "_figures,"_ but held her peace.

"She told me about Klaus, and about how she knew." Elena sat down on one of the couches, twisted her hands, and decided to come completely clean, leaving out only the irrelevant details that still made her blush. Sensing a long-winded tale, Damon and Caroline both sat. Damon took the space beside her on the love seat, and Caroline occupied the other sofa, facing them. At the end of her explanation, she fixed them both with pleading, big brown eyes in turn. "She wants to teach me how to know it, too. How to sense bloodlines. I have to meet her again at midnight, and I have to do it _alone_. I'm only telling you this because I don't want anybody to get hurt trying to stop me, or to lose the chance to learn this if I'm followed."

Damon slammed the cold mask down, while inside he was cheering that Elena was finally beginning to show some sense about making plans with their supposed enemies. He would have hated to find out about what she was planning after the fact, but thankfully that was taken care of when Katherine forgot herself for an instant and laughed.

"If she wanted to kill me, she would have done it when you were asleep," Elena said hotly, defending her complicity in the scheme between the doppelgängers. "I promise I'll teach what I learn, if I can, to everyone, especially you two. You need to know the most, Caroline, so you can find out where Tyler is, and Damon, you and I need to be able to find one another, and Stefan, and keep well clear of Klaus when he decides to come for us."

"You're sure this is the only way?" Caroline asked, worried and otherwise eerily silent as the need to find Tyler warred with her usual mistrust of anything having to do with the vampire who'd killed her.

"She said she learned from Scary Mary, and Mary's dead, killed by Kol. I'm sure there's something a witch could help us with, but Bonnie's not exactly gung-ho about dealing with Vampire Business," Elena murmured, still wringing her hands. She didn't like the idea of trusting Katherine any more than the rest of them did.

"She's still awfully new to her powers, too," Damon added. "Gloria knew about blood and magic, but she's gone as well."

"So we have to trust _her_?" Caroline muttered worriedly, looking at the floor.

"But we don't have to be _stupid _about it," Damon shook his head. "You're not going into this alone," he declared finally, looking off at nothing and pretending to scheme. He'd already had a plan and several backups before he set foot outside of his bedroom that day, but he wasn't about to tell the two of them that. "I'll dust off the old crow disguise and follow you at a distance."

"That was _YOU?" _Elena and Caroline both exclaimed in stereo. He hadn't used his crow form around Caroline, but he was sure that Elena and Bonnie had both told her of his odd, Kamikaze antics at some point or another in his winged form.

"Of course. You didn't think that the local wildlife was dive-bombing SUV's for the hell of it, did you?"

"You nearly scared us to death!" Elena shouted, smacking him on the arm, which stung a lot more now that she wasn't a weak little human, truth be told. For some reason, she managed to find something about it funny and began to laugh. Abruptly, she sobered. "You sent me that dream." He knew the one she spoke of. A make out session in her bedroom with his dear brother, the removal of clothing, his face replacing that of her almost boyfriend. He'd enjoyed orchestrating that one at the time...

"I'm pleading the fifth on that," he drawled. "It was before you brought out my humanity, remember?"

"So much for pleading the fifth," Caroline glowered. "I have no idea what dream she's talking about, but you all but admitted it right there."

"Hey, I was a different vampire back then. I hadn't gone all soft," he smirked, then threw an arm over the back of the couch behind Elena, as if to prove the opposite.

"You mean, back when you used me as your personal blood bag and a way to get at Elena? You left me covered in bite marks and bruises and messed with my mind." Caroline exploded at him, surprising them all by her ability to completely lose it while still remaining seated. "Honestly, I was a poster child for domestic abuse! I lied to my friends about it, made excuses, all because you compelled me to! You used me and abused me and dropped me like a bad habit when you were done. Is _that_ the 'back then' you're talking about?" For her part, Elena remained silent. This was a conversation that needed to happen. The past had been eating Caroline up for some time and Damon needed to see what kind of damage he'd really done. He needed to be held accountable, and she didn't have it in her to be the one to do the holding anymore. He might have tried to make amends to her in little ways here and there, and maybe some big ways, but they'd never talked about it.

"Yes," he said simply, not apologizing. "You were food, Caroline. I didn't care about you, because I didn't care about anything. I switched all that off because I needed to use every weapon at my disposal to rescue Katherine and my emotions were a hindrance."

"What's to say that wasn't the real you, and that 'new Damon' isn't the act?" she persisted. "How can we trust you, after what you did to me? To Vickie?"

"I have no answer to that you'll accept, so what's the point?" He threw his hands up in frustration, then leaned forward, elbows to knees in a hunched posture that belied his apathy on the matter. He fixed Caroline in his purest, bluest gaze. If she'd been human, she would have sworn he was trying to compel her. "That Damon is still a possibility. It's still within me to be that, if I have to, but you have that inside you, too. Admit it. The only reason you didn't flip the switch after you killed that guy is because you didn't want to be like _me._ I was the meth addict to your after-school special, scaring you into keeping your humanity. I gave you something to be afraid of in yourself." He glowered at her, leaning forward.

"That sounds very similar to what Klaus said," she shot back. "Didn't he tell Stefan we should be thankful for him, giving us something to hate?"

"He told you that?" Elena murmured. She thought he'd only come to her with that information… Caroline merely gave her a short nod before turning her gaze back to the dark-haired bane of her short human existence.

"Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry, all right? I know it's a day late and a dollar short, but I'm sorry I treated you that way. If I could do it all over again, though, I would. If I hadn't come back to Mystic Falls for the comet, I never would have met Elena, and I'd still _be_ that monster." Elena gaped openly. Damon _never_ apologized.

Caroline's eyes glinted daggers at him, but she rolled her eyes and bit back any rebuff, realizing that it was true. He was a real monster to them when he first got to town, and then he… was merely an ass. She shook her head, muttering something too low for even his vampire hearing to pick up.

"Katherine still would have found a way to turn you, and still would have gotten Tyler's werewolf gene to trigger," Damon continued. "Klaus would have killed you both in the sacrifice. I _saved_ you, and nearly died of the werewolf bite your boyfriend gave me for my pains. We've all been through hell, and hating me isn't going to change that. But, hey, if it makes you feel better, I'll let you torture me for a few hours to get it out of your system."

Caroline's eyes popped open in shock, dismayed that he would think she'd even want to. She'd been through torture, at his hands, at the werewolf Brady's, at her father's, and at Evil Alaric's. She wouldn't wish it on anyone. She knew what it felt like. "No," she whispered, shaking her head and dropping her eyes to the ground. "It wouldn't make me feel better." She felt ill even entertaining the notion, and pressed a hand to her middle. "I don't enjoy hurting others. I'm not like that."

"So are we good then?" he growled, clearly pissed that there was nothing he could do to make things right in her eyes.

"No, but maybe… some day."

"Fine. I know I'll never be your favorite vampire, but can we at least agree that I'm not the enemy?" At this, she nodded, and he considered the matter closed.

"Look, not to be a Debbie Downer on your grand plan or anything," Caroline said after an uncomfortable silence, "but if she can really sense you through your blood, she'll know you're around."

"That would be true, if I were going to be. I can set up surveillance devices at the tomb and not go there in person until I'm needed."

"She's older than you, Damon, by centuries. Even if both you and Stefan showed up to fight her, she'd still have Elena staked before you could get there. There's no way you could set up hidden cameras well enough out there for her not to be able to find them. I can hear the electricity running through the house right now, so how much better is _her_ hearing?" Caroline shook her head. Damon was impressed with how quickly she caught on to his scheme and how she thought of things he wouldn't, but he couldn't let her know that. He had to seem like he was in control… it was just something he had to be. He wasn't used to plotting with a partner. He'd had allies for sure, but Caroline was quicker on the uptake than most and for once he didn't find himself holding back information or ideas for fear that they would be used against him later when his partner turned on him. In this, he had no ace in the hole, and it unsettled him.

"Guys, I really don't see any other way than her way," Elena cut in, still behind her own version of the plan, one hundred percent.

"What if she just wants to hand you over to Klaus to save herself? You could be walking right into her trap, Elena," Caroline scooted forward on the couch, the palms of her hands held up, beseeching.

"I don't trust her any farther than I can throw her, but…"

"She's made you an offer you can't refuse," Caroline finished for her, sadness in her eyes. It was an offer none of them could refuse.

"So we're just supposed to let you put yourself out there, without protection, and let what happens happen? I don't think so. Not again," Damon said with finality.

"We've done our level best to keep me out of danger for how long?" Elena gave a mirthless chuckle. "It was for my own protection that I was even in the truck with Matt to begin with." She shook her head sadly. "I'm not as breakable as I used to be. Can we just agree to disagree on this? You'll have Bonnie to locate me if you need to."

"By then it could be too late. If Klaus takes you, you're a goner. If Katherine stakes you, there will be nothing to track and no way to bring you back." Damon had turned to face her directly, putting forth all his fears without masking how he felt, not caring that Caroline was there to witness it. It didn't matter right then that he was open and vulnerable for the world to see. What mattered was that he ensured that Elena didn't die just as he'd finally begun to know what it was like to have her with him.

Elena turned to face him, as well, shutting Caroline out of her field of vision completely. "If Klaus takes me, I have a feeling he'll be wanting my suffering to last a long time, or using me to lure you and Stefan there so he can take everything out on all of us. If Katherine wanted to stake me, she would have done it already. We've been over that." Her chocolate eyes shone with conviction and with gratitude that he wasn't trying to hide. She knew what it cost him, wearing his heart on his sleeve again. She knew what he felt he risked. Her hand came up to caress his cheek softly and he leaned into her touch, his eyes slipping closed.

Caroline felt for all the world an uninvited intruder. Silently and unnoticed, she slipped off the couch and gave them their space, jaw clenched. Just because she didn't like the idea of Elena choosing Damon didn't mean she was going to interfere. They'd all given her the third degree when Tyler was sired to Klaus. She knew what it was like having her friends disapprove of the one she loved. What she said before to Stefan in her car still stood. No matter what Damon had done to Caroline, he'd never hurt Elena. She moved to the library with her prize, forgotten in the heat of their earlier fight: Damon's journal, now Elena's. Within it, she hoped she would find insight into her own dilemma. What was she going to do about Matt? About what she'd done with him, alone in his hospital room? Suddenly, she felt as though she'd betrayed Tyler. She thought he was dead, what, like a day? Not even a full twenty-four hours had passed before she'd kissed another man. Part of her reaction to what Elena had done with Damon, a large part, was because of her own guilt for reaching for a future that wouldn't leave her all alone. If Damon hadn't called her when he did… silent tears fell. She hadn't gone so far as to sleep with Matt, but in her heart, she knew. If Damon hadn't yanked her away, she would have.

She'd felt guilty then, and took it out on Elena. Now she felt a hundred times worse. Were they all no better than Katherine, in the end? Would they all end up moving through eternity, destroying the hearts of the men who loved them in the pursuit of their own selfish desires? Wiping at the tears and giving a sniffle, she pasted her brave look back on her face and allowed herself the distraction of reading what they wrote.

_O, Beauty Incarnate_

_Your eyes shine like starlight_

_I long for your caress_

_I await in slumber, _

_In waking, I breathe not_

_Cannot for wanting you_

_You shall be my sunlight_

_I would barter all days_

_For the sound of your voice_

_Would have no need for wine_

_To sup e'er at your lips_

_Forever more, we two _

_The life beats at your breast_

_Within you, the answer_

_The ending, the beginning_

_Eternal surrender_

_Striding o'er the earth on_

_Wings of e'er lasting love_

She couldn't believe Damon would write any of that. Not the Damon she knew. He was all sarcasm and bluff and pride. How could anyone believe it? A sappy Damon. She shook her head in wonder.

She turned the page to find the more familiar writing of a contemporary hand. These words she knew, as if they'd fallen from Elena's lips. They said nothing but what Elena had already told her, shed no new light into her own soul. Damon's old poetry gave her more than the words Elena saw fit to scrawl. It was like a dry run for every argument she'd made, like she'd expected the words to be read, or that they bore repeating ad nauseam until she believed them herself.

Her tone was contrite and confused about many things. Caroline rolled her eyes at the outpouring of teen angst. She was firm on one fact, though: she loved Damon. She wasn't trying to mold him into another version of Stefan. They were two completely separate beings, two opposites, and yet she found a lot to love in both. Caroline could draw the same correlations between her own two loves. Matt: so human, sweet, and safe. Tyler: dark, defiant, and oh so dangerous. His hybrid werewolf venom could kill her but she wasn't afraid of him, or it. Not even the fact that he _had_ bitten her-poisoned her while under Klaus's control-could deter her from loving him and wanting to be with him. Tyler was many things, but tame wasn't one of them. The heart of a wild thing beat within his chest and it made her feel so… _alive_ to be with him. The hint of danger was one of the things that drew her, armored over a core so vulnerable, so desiring of love that it compelled her to dig past the danger to find that precious jewel within and nurture it.

She'd long ago slid the volume closed between her palms and stared off into the fire, lost in the impossibility of her choice. In the end, she knew that as long as Tyler lived, she would be at his side, faithful to the last. Though she loved Matt dearly, she was as dangerous to him as Tyler could be to her. She could never give him a family, could never grow old with him. If she allowed her relationship with him to happen, to continue, eventually he would be like the rest of them, stuck forever in the supernatural world they inhabited with no chance at a normal life.

She had to give him what they all lost. He was the last among them to have that chance. Even if Tyler died, even if she was left alone, she couldn't take that from Matt. She had to set him free.

"Elena?" Jeremy's voice sounded through the house from the front door. With a jolt, Caroline stood and slid the diary in with the rest of the books on the shelf and sped to the front door. Elena and Damon were already in the door to the hall from the drawing room. Damon stood slightly in front of Elena to act as the first line of defense if she lost her mind to the hunger. Caroline took up position beside Jeremy, giving him a small smile before returning her attention to Elena to see how she fared.

"Hi, Jer," Elena said softly, nervously hiding behind Damon's shoulder in fear that she'd lunge for her brother's jugular at a moment's notice.

Jeremy wasn't worried at all. He _knew_ Elena would never hurt him, no matter what. He sidestepped Caroline and held out his arms to his big sister. She hesitated, cringing as the sound of his heartbeat carried to her ears. "Come on, Elena, don't be like that," Jeremy cajoled, shooting Damon a warning glance when he moved to block Elena entirely. Damon took in the stubborn set to the younger Gilbert's jaw, his confident stance, his resurrection ring and nodded, moving aside.

"Jer, please, I don't want to hurt you," Elena whimpered, cringing back.

"You won't," he assured her. "And if you do, I'll be ok."

She stood there in the doorway for a moment, indecisive as to whether she should hug her brother or escape. There was nothing and no one between them but air and her own fears. In an instant, she came to a decision and sprung forward at vamp speed to take her brother's offered hug. She held him carefully, as if he were made of glass, and took an experimental breath as his arms wound comfortingly around her. When she felt no hunger force her fangs through her gums, felt no need to drain his blood to sustain her life, she sighed in relief and hugged him tighter.

He grunted as his ribs protested her crushing hold. "Easy, Elena, you're stronger than you look and I'm just a lowly human," he joked, pulling at her arms which had turned to rebar. It was a futile effort, he knew, but it brought Elena back to herself and she loosened her hold on her sibling with an embarrassed sort of happiness that made her chuckle in ernest.

"Sorry. I'm just so glad I can hug you!" she gushed, pulling back.

"The feeling's mutual," he replied, giving her waist one more squeeze before he let her go. "I couldn't touch you if you were a ghost."

"Ok, kids," Damon drawled. "Sun sets in an hour so you two have plenty of time to catch up. I've got to get some… things together if we're going to be moving our bat cave. Stay here," he commanded to all three of them, and Caroline merely nodded. "Yell if you need me. I'll be around," he said mysteriously before speeding off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(S/K)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katherine leaned over him, propped on an elbow as she idly traced the tattoo on his shoulder. Naked, they basked in the dying Virginia sunlight on a patch of moss which gave off the sweet smell of earthy things where it had been torn up by their earlier acrobatic lovemaking. Katherine was smiling softly, biting her lip as she continued tracing her finger over bare skin she hadn't seen in over a century. Oh, how she'd missed her golden, green-eyed boy…

The alcohol they consumed earlier was leaving him faster than he'd like. Becoming sober was something he didn't relish at the moment. Stefan felt the crushing weight of his own guilt hanging in the air, waiting to smother him if he'd let it. He'd just had sex with Katherine to spite Elena, he realized. He did that and yet, he felt like she deserved it. It was only fair that he'd sought solace in her mirror image after she'd slept with his own brother.

Katherine was now using her mouth where her fingers had been, trailing lips and tongue over the hollows and hills of his form, learning his topography all over again, coaxing him into hardness with her gently applied foreplay. He didn't want her gentle, he wanted her wild and frantic and gasping out his name.

She moved to straddle his hips as that part of him she liked so well began to stiffen under her ministrations. His hand came up to grip her throat, the strength in the tendons not quite hurting, but nearly. She'd always fantasized what Vampire Stefan would be like in bed, and she hadn't been disappointed. Now she wanted _more._

In a whirl, he had her pinned beneath him on the ground, her breast in his left hand, her neck in his right. He moved against her teasingly, applying pressure in all the right places to get her to moan in abandon. How well he remembered the way she liked to be touched. She had been his first, the one to teach him the dance. He stroked her passionately, willing away all other thoughts but those of what it was like to feel her body respond to him all over again.

Once she'd had enough of playing at being the yielding flower, she flipped them over, reversing their position with ease. She always liked being the one in control, the one who mastered him and herself, bringing them pleasure at her own pace. Just because he had a bit more strength and speed to him now didn't mean they were in any way equal, yet. She'd show him why he shouldn't have resisted her to begin with, she'd show him and then he'd be sorry…

The clearing rang out with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh and rock and tree. A passerby might think that there were giants fighting in the woods. The local wildlife had been slowly returning to their nests and warrens, but the renewal of the mating dance of predators silenced them all once more. Howls and screams more befitting a massacre replaced birdsong and the chirping of insects. The ground showed new furrows and the trees trembled in their wake.

Stefan held on for dear life as she rode him at vampire speed against the ruin of the church. She guttered like a candle flame against him and went still; her muscles locked tight and then released. He carried her tenderly to the ground while his knees threatened to give out. He pillowed her back on their patch of moss and made sweeter love to her in earnest, loving her mewls and the gentling look in her eyes as he found his own release. His hands found purchase in the mossy earth to either side of her, curled into claws and scored ten new furrows as he trembled and cried out his end.

With a groan, he fell to the side, staring up at the holes in the canopy showed the darkening blue of the sky. The forest held its collective breath, hoping that the danger was over, but wanting to make sure, this time. Slowly, birdsong returned. The fox returned to her kits, loath to leave them but unable to move them while danger still knocked at her door. With the sounds of life returned Stefan's conscience. The crushing guilt came upon him at last.

He sped around the clearing, gathering his clothing with jerky movements. He didn't dare look back on the ground where Katherine stretched languidly, wearing nothing but a self-satisfied smile. As he went to throw on his jeans she was suddenly behind him, pressing her breasts into his back and letting her hands wander possessively over his delectably muscled chest.

"What's the rush, my sweet Stefan? Afraid I'll tempt you into round three?" she purred.

"I can't believe I did that. It was a mistake," he grumbled, shrugging her off.

"Oh, come on now. Once is a mistake, but twice?" she tutted, hiding the hurt so well he almost didn't notice it. "Twice says you _meant _it."

"We were drunk. I was upset," he denied, tugging his shirt over his head so hard he nearly tore it.

"Yes, you were upset. Yes there was alcohol, but you and I both know that this was about more than that. You wanted to get back at her the first time. The second time was a bit _too _excessive for that. Get off your high horse and accept it." She grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him back against a tree, trailing kisses down his jaw as she held him in place. "You still have feelings for me and you've never let yourself truly examine them. Here's a news flash for you: no matter how guilty you feel for letting yourself give in, you'll always have a part inside that feels vindicated for it. There's nothing wrong with it, my sweet. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you can be free and happy and we can quit being enemies. You don't want me for an enemy, do you, love?"

He swallowed visibly, hearing truth in her words and not liking it one bit. She continued her assault on his senses and, to his horror, he felt himself responding as if they hadn't just spent hours making each other scream. "Katherine, stop…" he trailed off weakly, groaning as she played his sensitive spots with a knowing tongue. "I have to get back to the Boarding house to make sure everything's ok."

"Everything's fine," she assured. "Damon's got it all covered."

"That's what I'm afraid of…" he admitted before she yanked him into another kiss.

"Be selfish for once, Stefan. Let somebody else play the tortured hero," she said breathlessly as she let up on him. He wasn't struggling to get away, in fact he was as breathless as she was.

"I am being selfish," he admitted. "I don't want to be the reason somebody dies."

"Fine," she growled, releasing him completely. Her temper flared in an instant and was smothered again under the afterglow. "You know where to find me," she said cockily as he straightened his clothes and ran a shaky hand over his mouth. She casually went about the business of finding her own clothes and he swayed indecisively, watching her provocative dance. "Last chance to go before I change my mind," she sang at him over her shoulder, and he was gone.

Stefan found himself standing outside his own home for the second time that day, looking into the windows, afraid to go inside. Dirt under his fingernails and on his person, rends in his clothing, and wounds that healed too slowly marked his shame all too visibly. He saw Jeremy and Elena talking on the couch while Caroline dangled a glass of bourbon from elegant fingers, watchful but relaxed. He perceived the blur that was Damon, moving from room to room, preparing to move their arsenal and set up shop elsewhere. He thought about their dilemma, two brothers in love with the same vampire again, trying to keep her safe from the wrath that was the Council. He thought of Elena's betrayal, thought of his own. He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. They would never be what they were. The future looked so grim in that moment. Klaus was the originator of their bloodline, and it seemed there was no way they would ever be free of him. Katherine would never let him go, either, now that she knew he wasn't immune to her as he'd tried to seem in the past. The only upside to all this was that Damon wouldn't be leaving them. He wouldn't lose his brother. He regretted making that stupid deal, but now it was obvious that neither would be able to hold up their end of the bargain. In any case, he was glad of _that_ part of it.

Mostly, he bemoaned the loss of what was and feared for the future. He couldn't back down, though. He had to keep trying. He couldn't let his brother win so easily, no matter what he'd done to damn himself, and no matter how he'd been hurt. He still believed that Elena was it for him. She was his salvation, his link to his humanity. He wouldn't let her go without a fight. Trembling, he turned away from his home to go find a shower and change of clothes awaiting him at Ric's abandoned apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(B/K/T)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonnie lowered her hands, her chanting trailing off into nothing. Klaus's body lay before her on a bier, the greying of desiccated flesh receding, the hole the immortal stake had left closing. Even the black carbon charring was going away, until the body looked only slightly dead, without an inhabitant. "Did it work?" Klaus-in-Tyler demanded, leaning over and inspecting her handiwork for himself.

"It worked," she confirmed, shaking off the crawling feeling being near the Original Hybrid always gave her. "Your body's whole again. We can put you back in."

"Well, what are you waiting for, witch? Do it!" he demanded, Tyler's black eyes glittering at her dangerously.

"I need to rest. That took a lot out of me. If you don't want me dying in the middle of the spell, leaving you half-in-half-out, you'll give me a minute or two."

"Fine," he growled angrily. "Have your rest, but know my patience is very limited."

"Oh, believe me, I know," she parried, sitting in the wicker chair he pulled out for her. He handed a bottle of water over to her solicitously, but she knew his caring behavior was only because he wanted something. He only ever did anything to further his own agenda. She broke the seal of the plastic ring on the bottle and took a few drinks. The water tasted good, but she hated the synthetic feel of the plastic in her hand. What she wouldn't give for an earthenware chalice just then… She recapped the bottle and put it down on the floor so she wouldn't have to touch it any more.

"After this, you'll leave my mother alone?" she murmured with her eyes closed, knowing he could hear her even if she whispered.

"As long as she does nothing against me, she will be safe. I'll even lend a couple of my hybrids to ensure her protection, if you like," he added magnanimously, eager to get back into his much more indestructible body.

"As long as she doesn't know what they're doing," she stipulated. "I don't want her to know I was involved in any of this."

"Very well."

She only nodded her assent, and concentrated on restoring her power. The underground well beside them, the stones above them, the roots of the trees in the walls, the braziers lit on either end of the bier, and the air around them lent her the links to all four elements, making her recovery that much faster. There was old magic in this cave, used by generations of witches leading back to the first inhabitants of the area. The well was part of the underground network that fed and was fed by the falls and lakes and streams above that lent the name to the town. The braziers and the bier were cut from the very stone that made the cave, used in days of old for funerary rites as well as some of the more ancient sacrifices. The trees above were oak, not white but older than the town itself. Nature sang through this place and echoes of the past left ripples of power. It flowed into her on a drugging trickle, lending her second sight in the stream of time.

She had no idea how he learned of that particular cave, but she was going to come back here as often as she could, now that she knew of it. She felt at peace here, like she belonged to this place, and it to her. Even Klaus's intimidating presence was a shadow of what it used to be while she felt more powerful than she'd ever felt before, even with the spirits of the dead witches lending her _their_ power. She felt she could do anything, handle anything.

Adrift in the essence of nature, she felt her own stores topping up. Just like that, she opened her eyes, stood, and gave Klaus's body a nod. "I'm good now. Let's do this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(TBC)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_A/N- So now we know what Bonnie's been up to. Kinda anticlimactic, as I was hoping for a Caroline/Tyler/Klaus showdown. That scene was actually one of my favorites in the show, but maybe I can still squeak in a little Klaroline for kicks. _

_Thumbs up if you like bad! Stefan getting it on with Katherine. Now they're all even, I guess. Wonder what Elena will think of Stefan not being Mr. Perfect when she learns the truth…._

_As always, reviews are love. 'Til next time, my darlings 3XOXO_


	13. Lucky 13

_A/N: This chapter contains content meant strictly for a mature audience. There will be language, aye, and graphic depictions of a sexual nature, too. (At least as graphic as you can get with black text on a white screen.) Also, there will be mentions of bodily functions, not graphic, but still. Thought I might make note of this so we're not all blown away when the M rating gets earned._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(D/E)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun dipped low to the horizon, Damon was tossing bags into the trunk of his dusty blue Camaro, piling them atop the cooler of blood he'd ferreted from the basement supply. He'd filled two of them, leaving the freezer bare. The other, he handed off to Caroline. Caroline and Jeremy were adding more to the orderly stacks of luggage in the back of Caroline's SUV. Elena was lurking in the entryway of the boardinghouse, eluding the last fleeting rays of doom while being as far outside of the building as she could be. All of the vehicles currently parked in the driveway would soon be disappearing. Damon had insisted that they take as many separate vehicles as possible, in the event that they all had to leave town in opposite directions to throw any enemies off their collective trails. He also wanted to discourage the destruction of his property, truth be told, and if everyone on the Council thought that he and Stefan were no longer in residence, he held hopes that the house would still be standing when they returned. He really regretted killing Zack, at this point. He was a whiny, annoying little bitch, but he took great care of the place.

As dark finally fell, Elena rushed out into the yard to take in huge lungfuls of fresh air.

Damon leaned against his Camaro with his arms crossed, watching her spin around, just breathing. "The air in the entryway is the same as the outside," he drawled playfully. He was rather fond of the out-of-doors, himself, but if he wasn't going to take potshots at Elena, the world might as well be ending.

She paused briefly and shot him a look that said, 'I'm not an idiot,' before returning to her previous activity as if she'd never been interrupted.

"We're ready to go whenever you are." Jeremy rounded Caroline's SUV with his hands in his jeans pockets, hunkering into his baggy hoody and shivering slightly at the unseasonably chill wind blowing through the trees.

"Yup, all set," Caroline confirmed. She, too seemed to be bundled up for the cold, although vampires didn't feel temperature extremes the way that humans did. It would raise suspicions with the local population if she didn't try to blend in, though, so Elena took the unspoken hint to heart and went rummaging through her single overnight bag for her cherry red sweater. Caroline caught Damon eyeing Elena's wiggling backside as she bent over the Camaro's trunk and made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. Damon shot her his trademark smirk and shrugged, at which she shook her head and found something fascinating about her nails before Elena turned back around with her prize in hand. Damon then caught Jeremy eyeing him speculatively, just as he had through the car ride back from their trip to Denver.

"I'm going to stop by the house for a few things," Jeremy prefaced, his glance sliding to Elena. "I don't think anyone will try to hold me up if they're staking it out. Do you want me to get you some more clothing? We might end up staying at the Lake House for a while."

"Thanks, that'd be great," Elena smiled. Her smile fell suddenly, the siblings eyeing each other with a sense of regret. She flew to her brother and took him up in another embrace, her chin resting on his shoulder and tears threatening in her eyes. "In case we don't see each other again," she murmured softly, although the other vampires could hear her perfectly, "I just wanted you to know that you're always going to be my brother, in my heart, no matter who my biological parents were. I love you, Jeremy, and I always will."

"I know, Elena. I love you, too." He hugged her back warmly, feeling how carefully she held him this time, and forced out a laugh beyond the tears that wanted to spill. "Hey, it'll be fine. We'll meet up at the Lake House and have a laugh about how worried we were over nothing. Bonnie will show up with your ring and we'll all have a long talk about how school and things will work out, now that your _dietary needs _have changed."

She released him reluctantly and gave him a brave smile. "You're right. The Council will be busy for a while. This'll be our best chance to throw them off our trails for a bit. I just wish it didn't feel like we were saying goodbye."

"See you later?"

"Yeah, I like that better."

Elena turned and regarded Caroline warily. "You're still my bestie, you know. I don't want you to leave thinking we're too mad at each other…"

"Oh, shut up and give me a hug, dummie," Caroline sniffled, caught up in the emotions of the moment. The girls rushed together and shared an embrace, and Caroline pulled back first, taking Elena by the shoulders to look deeply into her eyes. "I just want you to be sure this is what will make you happy," she whispered, low enough that only Elena could hear her properly.

"I'm not sure about anything," Elena admitted in the same way, "but I want a chance to be able to figure that out."

"Me, too," Caroline agreed. "But first, I need to find Tyler, and for me to do that, you need to see Katherine."

"You're sure he's not still sired to Klaus?"

"He wouldn't have been able to defy him and save you if he was."

"Just checking."

"I know. Be safe."

"You, too." They shared one last hug before breaking off to their respective vehicles.

Elena approached the Camaro to find Damon still leaning cavalierly against it. "Your chariot awaits, my lady," he smirked, and opened the passenger side door for her with a little bow. She shook her head, smiling, and slid into the seat, giving Jeremy one last look as he climbed into the car he'd been 'borrowing' from Ric.

Caroline took off in her SUV, the tires throwing up gravel as she peeled out of the driveway. Before Elena knew it, they were speeding down the road between the trees, leaving behind the place she'd thought of as a second home for the past year and a half. For his part, Damon would miss his big bed, his jacuzzi tub and his shower, but having Elena alone with him was worth a thousand nights on his California King.

At the last rest stop before leaving the town behind and entering the hills that nestled the lakes, Elena begged Damon to pull over. "Why? It's not like you have to use the facilities any more," Damon said with a sideways derisive smirk.

"Actually, I kinda do."

"Oh, right. Last bathroom visit from your human diet. I'd almost forgotten about that."

"I don't want to talk about it. Just pull over, will you?"

Instead of heading into the gleaming parking lot of the gas station, Damon took them a little further off the beaten path and pulled into the lot of a motel that had obviously seen better days. Those days would have been sometime in the Seventies, by the look of the place. She gave him a puzzled frown and he turned in his seat, the better to make her feel even more uncomfortable as he said, "You're going to want to get _really_ clean after you do your business. Like shower fresh and all the nooks and crannies given a scrubbing with steel wool before you won't smell it any more. Trust me. I'll head over to the drug store and pick you up a few things to help with that. Take this cash and get yourself a room for an hour or two. I'll be back shortly."

She accepted the folded dollar bills reluctantly and went in search of the office for the place. When she thought about getting a motel room with Damon on an hourly rate, this had certainly _not_ been on the agenda. There were very few _true _perks to being a vampire, and not having use for a toilet was one of them. If she'd known she was going to drown and transition the day before, she would have fasted for… like a week. She found the room with the dingy countertop and the even dingier body behind said counter without issue. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and unwashed human wafted up in waves from the middle-aged pot-bellied man, dissuading whatever appetite for blood she may have had. The leer on his face as he looked her over killed it entirely.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" he asked, chewing on the end of a grimy pen.

"I need a room."

"It's sixty for the night."

"I just need it for an hour or two."

His grin got creepier and she momentarily wished she had sent Damon in with the cash instead. She shook her head, mentally chastising herself for forgetting for even an instant that she had nothing to fear from him, that she was the one to be feared in this exchange. She pocketed the bills, hating his leering face from the bottom of her being, and felt instinct take her over. Her eyes bored into his. "You will give me a room," she intoned, feeling the power within her well up as she effortlessly capsized his will with her own, "and I was never here."

The pen fell out of his slacked jaw and onto the counter as he slid the key over the formica. She waited for him to release it before capturing and pocketing it alongside the cash. She turned to go, but in another instant of insanity, whirled and pinned him with her gaze once more. "The next girl who walks in here, you'll treat her like you would your own daughter, little sister, or your mom. And take a shower when you get home, will you?"

Still slack-jawed, he nodded, and she whirled and strode out. She forgot the man behind the counter in his stained wife beater with effort. She never thought it would be so easy to see another human being as a toy, an obstacle, or as expendable, but every instinct in her told her he was nothing more than the dirt beneath her shoes. It had been easy, _too_ easy to Compel him. She briefly feared it as the first sign that she was losing herself, but then she thought that if given the chance, he would probably treat her the same way. The look in his eye and the way he spoke to her had said it all.

She shook off a shudder and checked the number on the key against the numbers on the doors, found her room, and slipped inside never doubting that Damon would know exactly where to find her. She paced the room with its threadbare curtains, sagging double bed, and chipped pasteboard furniture as nature's call pressed ever on her consciousness. She didn't want Damon stuck outside with whatever he thought she'd need from a drugstore. The thought of coming to unlock the door for him, halfway through whatever she'd end up doing was enough to help her wait it out.

He had the good grace to shove the plastic bag into her hands through the open door and beat a hasty retreat before she had a look inside. For the most part, the contents were innocuous enough: body wash, shampoo, conditioner, soap, a comb… but two of the packages inside would have made her blush to the roots of her hair, had she been able. She would just have to grit her teeth and make it through, however, and do her level best to repress the memory of the next two hours.

Not an hour later, she threw the room key into the after-hours dropbox, not wishing another encounter with Mr. Creepy while she still felt so raw and vulnerable. She slid into the passenger seat of the Camaro and avoided eye contact for a solid, silent ten minutes.

Damon took a breath to speak, but she immediately cut him off with another, "I _don't_ want to talk about it," to which he replied, "Fair enough," and kept driving. She looked, well, shell-shocked when she got in the car, and he figured she needed some time to come to grips with the trauma of whatever it was that made her so subdued, but he could tell that she was dwelling on the thoughts that disturbed her so much. With heightened emotions and the ability to hyper-focus came the never-ending downward spiral into bleak, black oblivion when a vampire allowed him or _her_self to be bogged down by the negative emotions for too long. It was part of the reason he'd gotten so good at finding the fun in the midst of disaster whenever he could, and he knew for a fact that Elena knew how to have fun. She was just a little rusty, was all.

He took the switchback turns leading to the Lake House at dizzying speeds. The Camaro was tooled for it, his reflexes more than enough to react in less than a millisecond, and Elena seemed to enjoy the distraction the adrenaline rush of being thrown around in her seat provided. Even if the unthinkable happened, they could survive a crash without issue, so he put the pedal to the metal and told her to hold on. He switched on the radio, more for background noise than anything, and Elena began to softly hum along. He mentally thanked whatever god there was for newborn vamps' predispositions for being distracted. He could fully understand Elena's mood at what she'd just gone through, hell, when he'd done it, bathing facilities had left a _lot_ to be desired, and he'd had to wait decades for modern pharmaceutical amenities to fully feel all right with the world. Since the Original witch hadn't thought to magic a solution to the inevitable remnants of humanity into her creations, however, it was something they all had to suffer through. At least, they only had to do it _once_ and it was over. Elena's sullen silence had begun to bore him, and he did not _do_ bored.

He cranked up the volume to hear the first strains of Fallout Boy's _Arms Race_, and her humming became louder right along with it. By the time the chorus hit, she was belting it. Her giggling made what she sang hard to suss out, but he was relatively sure, no… positive that those weren't the correct lyrics to the song.

"I'm a little man, and I'm also evil, also into cats, also into cats, yeah, yeaa!"

"Elena, what the hell?"

"What?" she chuckled. "It's the misheard lyrics of Fallout Boy. There's a video for it and everything. If I still had a phone with a data plan I could show you. They did one for _Thanks for the Memories, _too."

Soon, they were _both _singing with the radio, belting out tunes with abandon, trying to top one another with the ridiculous lyrics they thought up to replace the intended ones. Damon had Elena in stitches with his rendition of The Toadies' _Possum Kingdom_, when instead of 'So help me Jesus,' he sang 'with my big penis,' waggling his eyebrows every time that particular phrase got played. Queen's _Another One Bites The Dust_ became a song about public transportation. Between their gales of laughter and comical additions to their musical accompaniment, they poked fun at one another like they hadn't been able to do in a very long time, steering clear of any and all mentions of bathroom humor, of course. Damon watched entranced as Elena transformed from Broody Two to the girl who had drunk Bree's entire bar under the table and still managed to keep enough wits about her to save his life. Or, more likely, her tipsy state had compromised her judgement just enough to make her think he was worth saving. His huge, cocky grin faltered slightly as he thought about how he left Atlanta one dusky-skinned, witchy bar owner poorer. Sensing his shifting mood but not knowing the reason behind it, Elena became more flirtatious in an attempt to distract him from his sudden regret. Heaven help him, he was so shocked at seeing her flirtatious side when she was _trying_, it actually worked.

Damon and Elena were the first to arrive at the lakeside abode. They'd each agreed on different routes to get there and Damon had taken the most difficult but direct route, but their detour should have made it so they arrived at roughly the same time. Damon fired off a quick text to Jeremy, mollified when the teen fired back that he was fine and had spent more time than he'd meant to at the house. Caroline wasn't answering her phone, but was likely stuck on the highway in the last of rush hour traffic. Damon reassured Elena that everything was probably fine with her, and she seemed to believe him, although he wasn't entirely sure he believed himself. She _was_ on the Council's watch list, not to mention being the object of Klaus's obsessive crush. It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that she'd gone to try to find Tyler by herself, and the only way they'd know for sure was if she showed up some time in the next hour, called him back, or remained AWOL. There wasn't anything he could do about Blondie for the time being and she wasn't his priority _or_ his problem, so he exited the car and sped around to open Elena's door for her. She gave him an odd, quirky smile and allowed him to lift her by the hand from her seat. Sitting beside her, singing, joking, and _flirting_ had been fun and all, but a rather sweet form of torture. The sexual tension between them sang in his veins. Her rapier wit cut his ego to ribbons while simultaneously restoring it; the delectable little mouth that formed each jibe was a temptation, a dangled fruit. He'd fantasized about pulling to the side of the road on numerous occasions, to take her in his arms and kiss her playfully scornful mouth silent, but he'd restrained himself. Now that he had her alone and in a safer location, though, he was just about fed up with restraint. He didn't know how long the reprieve from her ever-present satellites of friends and family would last, but he intended to make the most of it.

In a flash, he had her backed up against the side of the car, the bulge in his pants pressed unrelentingly against her. She gave a little gasp before he swallowed any further noises down with his urgent kiss. Although he'd caught her off-guard, the surprise didn't last long. She fisted a hand in his silky, raven hair and did her level best to climb him, pressed between his solid frame and a ton of metal and glass as she was. Her world narrowed to his lips, his arms, his chest, and most of all his hard ridge of denim-imprisoned erection. As she climbed, she looped her legs around his waist so that his thrusting could bring them both pleasure and she could be a participant in the unsteady push-and-pull of their rocking together. Each moaned in satisfaction when the friction went where they needed it most. "The next time we go for a drive, you're wearing a skirt," he growled against her neck, brooking no argument on the subject. He tongued her pulse point maddeningly, but kept his fangs teasingly away from her flesh.

"Should I forget to wear underwear, too?" she panted, and raked her blunt teeth over his neck to tease him right back.

He pushed harder against her and his fangs tantalized her skin with the subtlest hint of more pressure, letting her know she'd affected him more than he would admit as he tried to stay in control. "I insist you do," he decided, and continued driving her nearly insane with frustrated desires. She wanted him to lose control, but more than that, needed him to. Deep in the darkest part of herself, she liked it when he was wild and unpredictable, even when he was destructive, even when people died. She'd hate herself for that later, but right then, she could take whatever out-of-control Damon could do to her and there was no one else around to be collateral damage. She wound the silken midnight strands tighter in her fingers and tugged his head back, exposing his throat to her suddenly blood-filled gaze with more force than finesse, but she had him all the same. His breath hitched at her unspoken command, at being made to submit to her, and he felt his knees go a little weak with the feeling of being in the power of someone nearly matching him in physical strength. His time with Rose had been cut tragically short, and it had been decades since he'd last played with Sage. Although he loved to be the ravisher to the weak and fragile, in his secret heart of hearts, he lusted after the woman who knew her own power and could make him sit up and beg. It's what kept him enthralled by Katherine for over a century, what made him lend his heart to the women who caused him the most pain. He'd always yearned to be challenged by the women he was with, always wanted an equal, perhaps a superior when the mood hit just right. The thought that Elena would take that Petrova fire and turn it all on him made him want to let it _consume_ him until he was immolated, a madman in flames brighter than the sun.

In a flash, she propelled them both away from the car and had him on his back on the ground, his hair in her fist providing the leverage needed where her physical strength wasn't quite enough. She felt him get even _harder _underneath her and she knew it was the right move, the right tack to take to get him to let loose. She had him and she'd need to tempt him, beguile him, and tease him into losing control over himself. She'd only ever read about that sort of thing in novels she'd hid guiltily away under her bed. Real life experience had been rather lacking in that sort of thing, truth be told. She'd never felt comfortable enough to try to mix the naughty with the nice. She'd always let her lovers do most of the leading, and although her imagination had plenty of fodder, she couldn't quite bring herself to take charge in the bedroom or figure out how to broach the topic. Bad-boy, Dark Prince, call-him-what-you-would Damon always struck her as the sort to like his passions a little darker, a little filthier, and that had spoken to her on the subliminal level, drew her to him where the 'good brother' had not. Now that she'd gotten this far, however, she was starting to falter, worried that she wouldn't be any good at it.

"Do what you want," he whispered up at her, a plea in his shaking voice.

"What if you don't like it?" she whispered back, unsure. It was a terrifying thing, to show one's darkest, most secret desires to someone for the first time, and though she'd be calling the shots and taking control, she would also be vulnerable in opening herself up to the possibility of ridicule or rejection. Everything she'd do, it would be because _she_ wanted it, that _her _passions drove it. He trusted her and placed himself in her hands, and she was worried that she'd let him down, somehow.

"Trust me, I'll like it," he drawled in his husky bedroom voice that never failed to send liquid pooling between her legs. She felt the dizzying swoop of desire bowl her insecurities clean over as she realized that, yes, indeed she trusted him enough to take a chance, to experiment with a part of herself that she'd never felt comfortable with before. She moaned and ground her pelvis down on him, hard. He hissed when pain and pleasure combined, the metal teeth of his zipper leaving imprints on his turgid flesh. Cold air touched his nipples with an icy hand when she ripped his shirt open from collar to waistband, followed closely by her warm mouth, nipping teeth, and a tongue that swirled over the hardening treasures she had found. She released one with a pop and fell on the other, leaving saliva to cool in the night breeze, furling it harder still.

She made love to the chest that had taunted and tormented her for so long, his pectorals the definition of masculine perfection, the dark, beguiling little nipples, the valleys and swells of abdominal muscles. Even the hollow of his navel got a swirl of her tongue, until he felt like she was penetrating him through it and the though made him arch his back beneath her. Next, she attacked the closure of his jeans, had them splayed wide like his shirt, exposing him fully to the rapidly chilling breezes. His cock stood proudly to attention when freed from its harsh prison, an eager soldier for her, his commanding officer. She payed it no mind other than to gaze upon it appreciatively with a possessive smirk beneath smoldering eyes. Oh, she wanted it, all right, but he'd enjoy it too much and she wasn't ready to let him off the hook just yet. He could see the change coming upon her slowly, the confidence within growing with each passing moment when he did not resist. He watched her take possession of her desires, her will, and turn it all to a purpose she was still devising. He'd never found her hotter than when she bit her lip with a devious smile, an idea forming and making a light turn on behind her eyes.

He almost groaned with disappointment when she stood up and immediately stripped from the waist down. Although he ached for her, he'd liked that he was so exposed while she remained fully clothed and he feared that it meant their game was already at an end. He made to get up, to take part in what he thought was coming but her dainty, bare foot pressed against his neck, forcing his back onto the ground. Confused but elated, he dared to hope he'd gotten it wrong, that Elena had another mysterious purpose in mind, and he could hardly contain himself at knowing he would soon find out. Her breath coming in excited pants, a feral gleam in her eye, she looked down on him from up above, her foot still pressing against his throat. Their eyes met and held, the crackling tension between them electrifying the air. In a graceful nearly balletic move, she removed her foot and landed with her knees to either side of his head. "Don't use your hands until I tell you," she said in a breathless voice. She bit her lip once more and raised her eyebrows high with hope that her daring hadn't been misplaced.

His breath caught at the sight of her dripping sex, presented bare and open before him, as he understood her meaning and what she wanted him to do. His rock-hard erection bobbed in the breeze as he dove in greedily, finally able to taste the delicious smell that had tormented his dreams and fantasies every time she walked in the room. Beneath the hazy musk of her arousal lay the drugging sweet aroma of her femoral blood, rushing around through tissues made hot and plump with desire. Every time he flirted with her, it was that scent he chased, every time they got too close it had been a temptation he'd been unable to ignore. He'd licked her juices off his fingers the first time and that taste had been a pale facsimile of the ambrosia he sipped from the source. He licked her slick flesh, suckled and consumed her like a man starving, taking as much in his mouth as he could. He was driven by passion, by want, his movements frantic and with none of the techniques he'd spent his considerably long life learning. Judging by the noises she made above him, she didn't seem to mind one iota. He chanced a glance above, straining his eyes to see her gripping her breasts through her sweater as she swayed, completely lost in the pleasure he gave to her.

"Use… your hands," she gasped out. Her head shook from side to side, tossing her hair, wild and gorgeous as she queened him. His fingers unfurled from the fists he'd been keeping them in, locked at his side with the last bit of control over himself he'd possessed. It had been so _hard_ not to grip her ass with them and bring her closer, guide her hips to his waiting mouth and position her where he wanted, but he'd remembered her order and hadn't wanted to countermand it. Before she could draw another shuddering breath, he'd had one latched to the side of her hip while the other snaked up underneath her, two fingers plunging deep, stretching her slick cavern in a way he knew for sure had to be slightly uncomfortable at the very least. Her cry of pure pleasure and the sudden outpouring of moisture told him she'd liked the pain, and for the first time he found his desire to be dominated warring with his nature. He glanced above him one more time to see she'd fisted a hand into her hair, the long column of her throat glowing in the moonlight beneath her thrown-back head, while the other hand was still busy at a breast, pinching and twisting a nipple beneath the fabric of her sweater. She was losing control of herself and with it, her control over him. He felt his beast slip free, became lost to it, and it was either bite her or fuck her, and he wanted to be inside her when his fangs slid in deep, so he chose the latter.

Moving faster than recent memory, using all of his strength, he threw her up and off him, tearing her remaining clothing off in midair as he followed her down. Her back and head hit the earth with a low thud and she saw stars, metaphorically and literally as her world got flipped on its axis. He looked down into her dazed eyes as he fisted his hands up into _her_ hair to let her know the tables had turned and she would have to deal with what she'd wrought. Namely, him. Her normally subdued pulse fluttered wildly and the scent of her arousal increased, and he knew at once that this had been what she was after in the first place. That was all well and good, then, and he found her dripping sex with his cock and drove home.

He kept her head in place with the iron grip he had in her tresses, and with it, her fangs away from his vulnerable arteries. Her bite at the Boarding House had served to unman him and he wasn't nearly ready for this to be over. He pulled nearly all the way out and plunged back in, feeling her walls give way with reluctance at the invasion, suckling and resisting him, sending fire racing down his spine with the sensations. He fucked her mercilessly against the ground as she howled out and clawed at his back, a woman completely unhinged by pleasure. Elena felt as though she was drowning again, drowning in pleasure so tied up with pain that the two became one, a sensation on a higher wavelength, transcendent. Divinity and damnation locked together, swirling and dancing to his primordial rhythm. The feeling of being filled so completely with Damon, being thrust out into the open air, leagues away from the precipice of sanity and tossed in the maelstrom made her body go numb and her mind rip free of its moorings. She shuddered beneath him, sending shocks through his system, sorely trying his ability to hold on. His pace began to creep into the realms of supernatural speed as her walls finally succumbed to the siege, welcoming him wetly, drawing him in tighter. He rode out five of her orgasms before they were no longer separate events, but one long continuous contracting force. Only then, did he let himself come to the edge. He slowed, finally, drawing out the torturous pleasure of dancing right on the precipice to oblivion, sometimes stopping entirely, buried to the hilt and bowing up her back so he could suckle at her exposed nipples.

Her voice had become rough from shouting, meaningless animal noises into the darkness, but then she said the one thing that could make him lose himself completely, blearily coming back to herself and holding him against her like she would never let go. "Damon…" He tumbled from the precipice, pumping his seedless ejaculate as deep within her as he could get, the strands of her hair falling away from his nerveless fingers at last. He found her pulse point beneath his lips, felt her tender mouth caress the skin of his neck.

As one, they slid their fangs into the veins of the other, soft as a lover's sigh, sharing blood made drudgingly sweet with the afterglow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(TBC)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_A/N _ Hi, guys! Remember me? *Waves enthusiastically*. That's right, I'm the horrible author who's been taking so damn long to update! *Ducks flying debris* All right, all right, I wrote that hardcore DE lemon… so, you forgive me?

So I'm kinda sorta pissed about _My Brother's Keeper_. For a lot of reasons. For one, I was planning on bringing up the possibility of Elena being _sired_ to Damon and exploring the evolutionary reasons behind the sire bond right along side Katherine teaching Elena about bloodlines. For two… did they _have _to break up the lovely Delena scene with Caroline and Stefan's stupid conversation? Quit messing with my hard-on, you bastard director! I've been waiting forever for that scene and you _ruined_ it with your camera angles, your cut scenes, and your choice of ominous soundtrack right as she gets him into bed! You might as well have added "Dun-dun-DUUUUUNNNNN!" to it, just so we know you're adamantly saying it's a BAD thing. ARRRRGHS!

Ok, done ranting.

Right, so I've been working on this chapter for quite a while now, and I'm contemplating whether or not I'm going to have the sire bond in there at all, now. Because they _ruined_ it!

Hmm, apparently not done ranting, after all. Okeedoke. I truly hoped I didn't gross anyone out with my mention of Elena's last trip to the toilet, but that, too had reasons. She needed to compel her first human, I really don't think that the undead magically reabsorb the solid waste left over in their digestive tract and it's another thing making her face in a tangible way that her human life is over, like a kid losing her first tooth. A milestone, if you will. I promise, that will be the very last mention of poop in this story.

Oh, and if you're wondering what the packages were that made her not-blush, I'll give you a hint: they're meant to flush the system _cleeeaaaannn…_

Well, that was creeptastic. Right. I'll post this and I'm off to bed. Sleep deprivation makes me weird


	14. Chapter 14

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(B/J)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeremy put his phone away quickly, but not quickly enough, it seemed.

"Was that Damon?" Bonnie asked, sliding into the passenger seat beside him.

"Yeah, I was supposed to be there by now." Her text had caught him just as he'd been leaving the house he no longer shared with anyone but Alaric's ghost. Although Ric had promised he wasn't going to cross over, Jeremy didn't think he'd be able to get over the fact that he wasn't truly _there _in any tangible way. His life was filled with the people who were _there but not_, and at the moment, Bonnie was at the top of that list. He thought they'd be _something_, after she'd killed him and then brought him back when they'd desiccated Klaus. Nothing made a person realize what they felt for someone like losing them, as well he knew. Sometimes he wondered if Bonnie would have realized that if he hadn't come back. They never talked about where things stood. Life kept tossing them storms to weather and the questions of what they were to each other, whether she forgave him for being unable to let Anna go fully, whether they could ever be together again was always shoved to the back burner. Afraid of the answer to those questions, he let them be.

"Thanks for coming to get me," she said as she buckled in.

"What were you doing all the way out here, anyway?" he asked her, keeping his tone light. He adjusted the rearview mirror more to seem as though the question wasn't a seriously probing one and caught a pair of dark eyes in the back seat. He knew the answer, knew more about the goings on of his sister and her friends than he really wanted to. Ghosts had no boundaries when it came to the living, and he was the only one on this side who they could talk to and be heard, so he was the first stop on the Too Much Information line. Sheila wore a worried frown, a sentiment he felt all too keenly. Bonnie had been touching forces, drawing _power_ from dark places, and the spirits were unhappy about it. She'd warned him that there would be a reckoning soon. Jeremy feared what she meant by that.

"Oh, you know," Bonnie chuckled nervously, "witch stuff." Bonnie had also been getting more secretive. This wasn't the first time Klaus had managed to rope her into doing something for him. He was very good at turning witches to his purpose, Sheila had said.

"Stirring cauldrons? Riding brooms?" he needled.

She tried to glare at him, but the corners of her mouth turned up. She knew he knew what witchcraft entailed, had helped her and studied grimoires with her, so although she wanted to take offense to the stereotype, she knew he was joking to put her at ease.

"Dancing naked under the full moon?" he continued, grinning.

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "It's just past new moon, so sorry to ruin the fantasy but… no."

"All right, keep your magical secrets," he continued, still light and joking, "but you _do_ dance naked under the full moon, right?"

"Not when there are werewolves and hybrids to worry about," she laughed. "That gets dangerous fast."

"Oh, all right. Ruin all my fun, why don't you?" Jeremy reversed the car into a three point turn and backtracked through the woods to the main road. He felt confident after that maneuver that no one was following him. He glanced back at Sheila, to be sure. She shook her head 'no,' so he drove toward the Lake House without a qualm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(C)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive up to the Lake House was rough with traffic jams, construction sites, and rubberneckers slowing to a crawl at a half dozen wrecks. Caroline glared at her GPS. "You're useless, you know that?" The damn thing had steered her into worse messes than the last at every turn. A drive that it had calculated to be a forty-five minute little jaunt had turned into a two hour sojourn into the deepest pits of Hell.

Currently, her SUV was idling at a complete standstill. She was watching the minivan two cars ahead of her park. The driver, a bedraggled-looking soccer mom type in a cardigan and stretch pants got out and was attending to something in the back seat through the open side panel door. Her ass wiggled wildly out of the car, something the trucker to in the lane beside her found enthralling. By the sounds of wailing infant that Caroline couldn't help but hear with her up-jumped vampire senses, the woman was changing a diaper. For her part, she was glad for the unseasonably cold weather, else she might smell as much, too.

Caroline sighed and gave up. She jammed the shifter into park, herself, and cut the engine off to conserve gas. At this point, it would be quicker to get there on foot, but then she'd have to explain to the highway authority why she left her car in the middle of the biggest traffic jam in Virginia. "Umm, so sorry, officer, but I had to get out to pee and then I got _lost!" _wouldn't cut it. Even if she Compelled every interstate trooper for a hundred miles into buying that load of crap, there would still be a paper trail. She checked her phone for messages, of which there were none, not even a return text from Bonnie. That done, she drummed her hands on the steering wheel for the thousandth time before finally giving in and crawling into the back of the SUV to raid the cooler. If she didn't feed soon, with the stress she was under, she'd get out there and rip out Mr.-Ogle-Eyes(the trucker)'s throat before she knew what she was doing. In her mind, he was wearing Damon's face as she did it. She found the fantasy satisfying, briefly, before chiding herself for letting the monster in her have its say for even a second. She didn't like hurting people. She _didn't!_ So instead, she returned to her seat, refastened her belt, and sucked down the freely donated blood in the bag, clutching it like a lifeline.

Halfway through the bag, she stilled. There was a sense of wrongness… of _danger_ that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Soccer Mom had long since gotten back into the driver's seat and all Caroline could see for miles was the glowing red of taillights standing still, but there was a different stillness in the air. _I sense a disturbance in the Force,_ her mind supplied, but other than the traffic, she could't see a reason for her unease. She glanced back down at her phone, wondering if she was going insane. _Bonnie_ was the one with psychic powers. Caroline only possessed heightened senses… and instincts. Her instincts hadn't always been good before the change, but now they were better, supernaturally enhanced. Something was wrong and they were all in enough danger right now for her to pay heed to them.

She rolled the window down to get a better sniff of whatever was unsettling her, and that's when they came.

Nine men in dark clothing materialized from the cars around her. By the smell of them, she could immediately tell they weren't human. The mix of blood and wolf could only mean one thing: they were hybrids. Within her vehicle, she was a sitting duck, and they were closing fast. She slammed the button down to roll up the window hoping to buy time. With a surge of vampiric speed, she threw open the sunroof and snapped her belt clean off. In a flash, she was crouching on the roof of the SUV, looking for a likely avenue of escape. They had her surrounded, outnumbered, and outclassed. She could only hope they were intent on her capture, not the kill, and resolve to take a few of them out with her, if she could.

They all paused as if at some unspoken signal, waiting to see which way she'd jump. Escape was definitely out. She slithered back inside the vehicle and battened the hatches. There was no way that the car would be able to keep them out, but she felt better with even that small measure of armor between herself and them.

"Come with us quietly and you won't be harmed," one of them intoned, completely assured she could hear him even through the glass.

"Yeah? Why don't I believe you?" she replied. "Oh, right, 'cause you're all still sired to Klaus."

"How did she know he's still…?" one of the others started, taken aback.

"Duh," Caroline cut in, rolling her eyes. "'Cause you'd all be dead with him. I guess I don't get a say in this?"

"You can go the easy way," the first guy who spoke put in gleefully, and licked his lips, "or the fun way. Fun for us, any way."

"Spare me. I'm pretty sure Klaus won't like it if you rough me up."

"He only said not to harm you unnecessarily, but he definitely wants you there, and if you fight us or give us trouble, it'll become necessary."

"Just… give me a minute. I can't exactly leave my car here. I've got a cooler of blood bags in the back, and I'm pretty sure that'll raise a red flag with the state troopers."

"So you'll come along?" Hybrid number two asked, sounding relieved.

"Yeah, I get it. Let's get this over with."

"Cody, grab the lady's picnic basket," Hybrid number one immediately jumped into issuing orders. "Steve and Jess, you're on witness duty. Chico, Aaron, Micah, pick up the car and move it to the shoulder. When you're done, help Steve and Jess. I want this clean, people." Caroline figured that Hybrid number one had to have some military training, with how he took charge of the situation. With a feeling of going to her doom, she grabbed her overnight bag out of the back and unlocked the doors.

She pulled out her phone to let her friends know she'd been waylaid. Thinking fast, she pressed the buttons with vamp speed in quick succession, but number one snatched it up almost before she could get her message sent. If her English teacher saw what she wrote, she'd probably have an aneurism, but she had no time for niceties and silly things like grammar and punctuation.

"Calling for backup?" he sneered.

"No," she scoffed back. "I'm supposed to be somewhere. I was going to tell my friends I'll be late."

"We'll let Klaus decide whether you get phone privileges."

"You've got to be kidding me," she exclaimed. "I swear, he's going to get an earful from me when I see his Original Hybrid ass. We better not be hiking anywhere. I'm not wearing the right shoes."

Hybrid number one shared an eye roll with one of his buddies. She was used to the reaction, had even wanted it. If they thought she was some flaky airhead, they'd underestimate her, and she may be able to use that to her advantage if the opportunity to escape presented itself. She'd just had a top up, so she was feeling pretty fast and strong, but she knew she couldn't face all nine of them. They were splitting up, though. Five were staying behind, which meant the tally was down to four-to-one, much better odds.

"Lead on," she muttered, waving her hand in a weary gesture.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(E/D)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elena opened her eyes to find Damon's crystal blue gaze dancing before her. A smile played around his lips and his tousled hair blew rakishly in the wind. Other than those riots of movement about his person, he was completely still. Watchful, even.

"All right?" he asked her, his whisper so soft she nearly had to read his lips to understand him.

"Definitely," she replied. "I feel like a million dollars. Are _you _all right?"

"I don't think 'all right' begins to cover what I am."

"Then what's with that look?"

He glanced down and back, flirting with his eyes. "What look?"

"That look," she proclaimed, catching sight of it as his face once more returned to the unlined, shining countenance she'd never seen on him before. "That one right there."

He rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I'm happy."

"It's a good look on you," she decided, smoothing back the tendrils of midnight chocolate that dipped down to obscure his eyes. She knew the disarray of his normally impeccable grooming was all her fault, and she felt not just a little pride in it.

He beamed at her for a little while and held her closer. Though the ground was cold and the wind biting, they may as well have been in a featherbed for all they noticed. Eventually, they'd have to get up and find their clothing, but for the time being they were content to remain where they were. "And… are you? Happy, I mean," he finally asked her, his boyish smile tainted somewhat by the worry that still plagued him.

She tried to smile reassuringly, but the memory of their coupling turned it into a cheeky, playful little grin. Her eyes sparked like embers in a banked fire. "I am, now." Damon hummed in approval and let his head settle to her shoulder, content for the first time in a long while. He had everything he wanted at the moment. For all intents and purposes, he had Elena all to himself.

"I was worried, actually," Elena began after a long silence, in which her thoughts and emotions decided to take a turn for the broody. "After what happened this morning, I thought I'd have to beg you to get you to touch me again."

Damon raised his head up abruptly to fix her with a searching look. "I can see why you'd feel that way," he admitted finally. "You're used to people expecting you to act a certain way, and flipping their shit when you don't, but I _love_ you, Elena. Flaws and all."

"I just… didn't know I had that particular flaw."

He rolled his eyes at that. "So you're not perfect. Join the club. Yeah, it hurt that you did what you did with Stefan, but the idea of denying myself the pleasure of your company and your body never once crossed my mind, so you didn't need to worry about that."

"I don't wanna lose you." Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, and suddenly she had to fight to hold them back.

"You won't," he assured her, rolling them so that he could pillow her head to his chest. He stroked her hair tenderly as he felt the liquid in her eyes dapple onto his skin. "I just got you, there's no way I'm letting you go."

"Don't leave me," she choked out, sobbing in earnest.

"Hey, hey, I promised I wouldn't," he assured her, wishing like hell it had been a decade since her transition instead of a day so her emotions weren't so chaotic and overwhelming. He hated when the woman he loved was reduced to tears.

"I'm terrified I'm going to do something to push you away," she admitted, calming with the soothing strokes of his hand on her hair and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he took unnecessary, but calming breaths beneath her.

"Then don't. There doesn't have to be a bump, Elena. With everything we've been through together-everything I've done to upset you-that was nothing. Just don't make a habit of it. I know I'm going to piss you off some time in the future. I pray it won't happen soon or frequently, but when it does, I want you to remember everything you're feeling right at this moment and try to cut my dumb ass a little slack, ok?"

She hiccuped and smiled a little. "Ok."

"Now, as much as I love lounging about with you in the nude, and believe me, I'll never get enough of it, we'd better find some clothes to put on," he drawled.

"If only for my brother's mental health," she agreed.

"And _my _brother's," he finished. With a great show of reluctance, he rolled off of her and got to his feet. He sped back to the car and hoisted out their duffels, returning before Elena had finished getting to her feet.

"You really think Stefan will show up here after what happened today?" She wondered aloud, her attention fully on finding an outfit in her hastily packed-away bag.

"I sent him a text," Damon muttered, shrugging into another hundred dollar button-up.

Elena swept her hair from the collar of her shirt and shimmied into her last clean pair of underwear while Damon just eyed her appreciatively. He was fully attired long before her and wanted to watch the play of all that olive skin moving with oblivious grace while she dressed. "So it could go either way," Elena decided.

"In time, he'll forgive you, forgive both of us. We've got nothing BUT time. Hopefully he'll see that before the broody lines in his forehead become permanent."

Elena combed her fingers through the wreck of her hair and gave it up as hopeless. Rummaging through her bag, she came up with a hair tie, but her brush seemed to be suspiciously absent, or else buried in one of the bags that Jeremy had packed for her, and thus in his car. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she hoped he hadn't forgotten it. She liked that brush.

Damon pulled out his phone once more, checking for new texts. One from Jeremy: "Rnning L8, still alive, no Council so far", one from Stefan: "I'll be there." and an unintelligible mash of letters from Caroline. "What do you make of this, Elena?" he asked, turning his phone so she could see.

"Kbridstkngmdnwhr," she read off. She frowned for a moment, tried sounding it out. "Oh, no! I think she's saying that Klaus's hybrids took her and she doesn't know where she's going."

"So… don't wait up?"

"Damon! This is serious!"

"Klaus isn't going to hurt her," Damon scoffed, then reconsidered. "Well, he isn't going to kill her. He's got the big lust on for our blond baby vampire cheerleader. He probably thinks he's in love with her or something. He'll be wanting a consolation prize for losing his hybrid-making blood source. A new trophy girlfriend is what I'd be wanting right now if I were in his shoes."

"How can you know that for sure, Damon? What if he knows I'm not… dead and grabbed her so he could torture her into telling him where I am? What if he wants to take his revenge on her?"

"'Lena, love, we can't do anything for her right now. Our best chance of finding Caroline is finding Klaus. If Katherine's legit, you'll be able to find him through the bloodline and in order to do that, you have to meet her in…" he glanced back at the phone, "three hours. Check your phone. She might have sent you a text. This one is from over an hour ago."

"My phone?" She cast about her for a moment, clearly at a loss. "My phone was in my pants, wherever _they_ went…"

"I'll get 'em," he assured and sped off to a darker patch of night blooming shadows, where their scents still mingled deliciously. He returned with their discarded clothing quickly, not wanting to be sidetracked so soon by the lust that stirred in him. He tossed her the denim but kept the rest, pocketing her underwear with a little sleight of hand, which she noticed anyway.

"Perv," she muttered and dug out her phone.

"You know it," he smirked, "It's all part of my irresistible charm." He then proceeded to fold the clothing that had survived neatly and stow it in the compartment to the side of his own duffel. She secretly thought that his attention to cleanliness and detail was a much _larger _part of his charm. Her brother would have just balled it all back up and tossed it in with the clean clothes.

She sighed, and shook her head, smiling. Glancing down, something on her screen caught her eye. Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline and she grit her teeth, grateful that Damon was momentarily distracted so she could compose herself. Trying hard not to betray her anger and confusion, she deleted the message and turned the screen dark with the flick of a button. "No new texts. Damn I hope she's going to be okay."

Damon zipped up his bag and returned to Elena's side and pulled her into a comforting hug. "She's going to be okay. She's smart and resourceful, something I never thought I'd say about her, but there you have it. We've got options. I can give Liz a call and have her track the phone, trace her car. She'll be just as eager to locate her daughter as we are, and she's got cop connections. When Jeremy gets here, we can use his laptop to aid the search. Also something I never thought I'd say: Witchy would be a good person to have around right now, tracking spells and all. I don't think Klaus has had time to find himself a new witch, so he might not have anything to block that."

"I'll give her a call," Elena sighed, a spark of hope lighting the worry she felt for her friend. Damon's reassuring embrace went a long way toward nurturing that spark. The thought that the feeling of peace he brought her, her emotions toward him, that it might not be real…

"No need," Damon interrupted her thought, drawing her attention to the sound of tires spitting gravel. "Looks like the cavalry has arrived."

They turned as one to face the headlights coming up the drive. Beyond that, it was clear that Jeremy had a passenger with him, someone who bore a striking resemblance to the witch in question. Elena broke from Damon's side and was at Bonnie's window almost before her brother could throw it into park. "Klaus has Caroline," she burst out, opening the door for her friend.

"I'll get a locator spell going," Bonnie replied, getting out and bursting into action. She paused to snag her bag of spelling supplies from the floorboards and marched off into the direction of the house.

Jeremy got out and Elena rushed around to hug him around the middle, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Wordlessly, they rejoiced that neither of them had died (again) that day and then began unloading the luggage. Between the two of them and Damon, it only took one trip. Dispensing with ceremony, Jeremy tossed over his shoulder, "Elena, Damon, come in."

It was only after they had stored the bags in bedrooms and Bonnie had completed the set-up for locating Caroline that Elena allowed herself a moment to think about that last text from Stefan: "Have you even considered the fact that you might be Sired to Damon?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*v*(TBC)*v*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All in all, I'm almost done with the boring set-up parts. Two hours to go until Elena meets Katherine at the Tomb.

I decided to go ahead and address the sire bond, as I had planned.

Also, don't expect fast updates from me. It takes forever to write a chapter (I'm a bit of a perfectionist). Also, they just made me manager at work! Wooo! Long hours, I'm afraid, but with no new episodes of TVD, I'm pretty sure my muse is going to be jumping up and down on my head.

Special thanks to Mandalynca for giving me the kick in the butt I needed to finish this chapter. You rock, Maddie!


End file.
